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#she can step on me and i'd say thank you
momotorin · 22 days
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i'm shutting up seriously.
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chief-lynnan · 1 year
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Omgomgomgomgomgomgomg
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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extension to this
simon sits inside the vehicle he's rented right outside a quaint, little coffee shop. your last letter sits, folded and crinkled in his breast pocket, the very reason why he's even here.
there's nothing much to say to you, pen acquaintance. the semester's over in a week, which means that this will be the last you hear of me. i'd wish you luck in whatever task your superior assigns you, but i don't want to. adieu, british man. i won't miss your piss-poor humor and doctor's scribble. p.s. my eyes are permanently crossed from having to decipher every letter of yours.
unacceptable.
he pulls back his sleeve, looking down at the scuffed sports watch that adorns his inked wrist. 10:35 a.m. simon steps out of the car hastily, not even bothering to lock it. the chilly breeze nips at the tips of his ears as he jogs to the cafe door and holds it open.
for you.
"after you, love." his mancunian accent thicker than normal on his tongue. how pretty you are in person, almost a dream come true. you turn to thank him, and he watches your captivating eyes zero in on the glinting metal of his dog tags resting on the breadth of his chest. how quickly your grateful smile sours. he suddenly feels too hot, vision tunneling to your set brow and hardened gaze.
"right. thanks."
with a quick pace, you pass him by, your bag bumping into his thigh, yet you don't bother to look back. so brilliantly unapologetic. his pulse races as excitement thrums through his veins. simon is quick to follow, coming to stand directly behind you and your group of friends with his clenched hands in his pockets, pretending to read the drink menu above your head.
when you order, he grimaces behind his medical mask. all these endless choices for coffee, yet you choose to drink some blended ice mistake, with far too much whipped cream and imitation chocolate syrup poured on top. simon'll teach you to drink tea— preferably back in england where the leaves grow best.
he steps forward, around the vultures that surround you, and tells the barista that he'll pay for your drink. "just hers?" he asks.
"tha's wha' i said, innit?"
simon extends his hand to the barista, plastic between your fingers when you call out to him. "hey."
a mischievous grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as he turns to meet your gaze, unable to contain his amusement.
"what about my friends?" his dark eyes cut to their direction, before wandering back to you.
"wha' about 'em?" he goads.
he can practically see smoke furling from your mouth, a miasma of fury; tastes it in the air— a blend of salt and fire.
there you are. vicious little spitfire.
simon lets you bubble with indignation for a brief moment until he shifts his attention back to the person behind the counter, who's been watching the exchange with mild interest. "theirs too, then. since she asked me so nicely."
his chest rumbles with laughter upon hearing your irked hiss at his comment.
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trivia-yandere · 6 months
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Hi!!!! Okay, first of all, I'm in love with your writing!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕And I was wondering (I've never done a story request so if it is horrible, please just ignore it 😅) but I was wondering if you could write a story of maybe yandereboyfriend/friend jungkook kinda forces older (not heaps but like 2-5 years older but shes just shy and confused when it comws to sex and intimacy) reader to loose her virginity to him and she likes it at the end?? If this is super uncomfortable, please don't even think about it 😅😶‍🌫️👉👈 or if you wanna do something completely different, I'd love your writing anyways!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕
hello! yes I can :) thank you for sending a request and being so patient! i feel like this yandere is more light than the usual lol
best friends!
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jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that wasn't him. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29 idol version
word count: 6.100
warning: naive/shy reader, mentions of watching porn, childhood friends jungkook + reader, smut scenes, coercion, masturbation, manipulation, light yandere tedancies, jealous jungkook, dub-con moments, dry humping, kissing, nipple sucking, oral sex, loss of virginity, rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering, unprotected sex, spitting,
“You’ll never be able to seduce a man, Noona.” Jungkook laughs boisterously, causing your face to heat up. “You’re just too shy.”
Jungkook’s eyes watch as your arms cross over your chest, any self-confidence you had slowly falling. He hums, turning over on his bed to face you. He then places a hand on your thigh. “Noona…”
“Stop calling me that, Jungkook.” you murmur. He knows that you prefer to be called by your name, but he’d often ignore you because of how much he enjoys teasing you, even after years of friendship. 
“You’re upset with me.” says Jungkook.
“I’ve stopped calling you Kookie like you asked.”
Jungkook snorts. “That’s because the nickname doesn’t fit me anymore. I’m a man.” his hand squeezes your thigh. “Besides, I said stop calling me that in public. You and I are alone now.”
You and Jungkook have been friends since childhood, your father and his being great friends. The age difference never bothered you as much, and you’d often recall calling Jungkook your baby brother during his primary and middle school days - you having been homeschooled. It was when Jungkook grew in size and age and reached High School did he demand you stop calling him that but never gave a reason as to why.
Even now, as Jungkook and you are adults, the friendship remains. You went to him for whatever you thought you needed and he was there. Moving away from your father had been a big step and finding a job to support yourself was even bigger, but you were never truly alone because you had Jungkook - you and he living together.
Jungkook was the opposite of you. While your job consisted of you being home, he wasn’t. He made friends easily while you remained with a close knit circle. He was more social when needed and you often closed up around people you didn’t know. Most of your friends were Jungkook’s friends that he considered brothers - you recall asking him why he considered them family and not you. Jungkook didn’t give you any reason, stating that you’d never be a sister in his eyes, no matter if he knew you longer or not.
Now you and Jungkook lay in his bed, an action that he insisted on every so often, and watched tv. He’d often hold you, his breath tickling your ear with how close he was. A certain thought now laid on your mind and when you brought it up to Jungkook, his initial thought was to laugh at you. 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. He pushes himself closer to you, the hand on your thigh firmly keeping you in place. “It’s just…you don’t go out much. You’ve been homeschooled your entire life and you don’t really have friends besides the ones I have.”
Jungkook continues. “You literally cried the first time I showed you porn.” he tries his hardest not to laugh at the memory of you and he, both in High School. You had come over to his home while his parents were working. Jungkook had asked you about it randomly, and when you insisted that you never watched something as normal as porn, he insisted that you and he watch together. 
You’re flushed with heat at the embarrassing memory. “You…” you take a deep breath so your voice wouldn’t crack. “You told me it was just sex.”
“Is it not?” Jungkook knits his brows. 
“They were crying!”
“In pleasure.” says Jungkook. “I should have started you off easy and not gone into bondage.” low, he begins to laugh. It’s a memory that he’s fond of. “But I don’t regret showing you either. It was the first time you came!”
A memory you wished Jungkook would forget - and stop bringing up. That same night he insisted on teaching you about masturbation, telling you that it was normal. You’ve never done so before, feeling weird about it all together, but Jungkook wouldn’t allow you to leave until you at least gave it a try. 
“You even cried in pleasure.” 
Jungkook closes his eyes, the scene flashing in his mind. How innocent you appeared, completely confused on what in the world you were doing. It was then did Jungkook tell you that he’d talk you through it. It took a half an hour of convincing, of course. Getting you out of your pants, then your underwear. 
“Open your legs, Y/N.” Jungkook had said, grabbing your wrist. “Put your fingers right…there.” he places them onto your clit and you flinch at the feeling. “Then rub…” he murmured, his hand coaching you to rub until you got the hang of it.
Jungkook will never forget the sight and how hard he was at just watching you. Your breathing hitching, the low moans and the calls of his name. It’s a memory he cherishes with you - his best friend - and one of the main reasons as to why he’d never call you his sister; he had to dead that immediately afterwards. 
“Who are you trying to seduce anyways?” Jungkook changes the subject and goes back to the original topic. “You found yourself a boyfriend?”
“No.” you quip. “I-I just want to have sex.”
Jungkook raises a brow. “Why?”
“You have sex all the time.” you retort. You didn’t like Jungkook’s question, nor the look in his eyes. 
“I’m also not a virgin.” Jungkook fires back. “You can’t just have sex with anyone, Y/N. Don’t you think it has to be special?”
“Your first time wasn’t with anyone special.” you murmur. “Do you even talk to her anymore?”
Jungkook snickers. “Don’t remember her name.” he shrugs. “But you and I are different. Sex is different for women.” Jungkook says matter-of-factly. “You women create bonds with guys you give your body to. You can’t have that bond with just anyone.”
It was a conversation Jungkook and you had time and time again. As you got older, you were tired of being a virgin - and dating was never an option. Not because you couldn’t find a boyfriend - you could. You had men come up to you asking for your number and if you’d be interested in going on dates. 
The problem was Jungkook. He lingered around you often, and you never minded. He was your best friend and each man that tried were always shot down by him, not you. “He’s ugly.” Jungkook said about one man. “He looks like he doesn’t even shower, Y/N. Why he thinks he can speak to you is beyond me.” was said about another. “Men only want one thing. They can tell that you’ve never been touched.”
“What about Hoseok?”
Jungkook is quiet for a moment, your question lingering in his mind.
Hoseok?
Hoseok.
Jung Hoseok as his friend - the man he calls his brother?
There’s a dark look in Jungkook’s eyes as he thinks about your question. 
“Do you like him?”
“I love Hoseok.” you say calmly. “Like I love you.”
Jungkook doesn’t realize that his nails are digging into your skin until he hears you yelp. There was no way in Hell you love Hoseok the same as you loved him; the thought makes him want to gag.
“Why Hoseok?”
You aren’t sure how to respond. “I’ve known him for years.” was all you can think of. You and he were around the same age and he was nice, always smiling widely at you whenever he came around. “Maybe Namjoon?”
Jungkook swallows.
“You look at my friends often?”
There’s a change in Jungkook’s tone that has you cowering.
“I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Do you want to fuck my friends?” 
You’re taken aback by the harshness in Jungkook’s tone. 
“I…I don’t know anyone else but your friends.”
Jungkook snickers. He wasn’t going to allow you and Hoseok - or Namjoon, hell, anyone - to do anything. Hoseok is a man such as he is and the thought of his taking something precious from you was driving him wild. Wild because he knows that if you asked Hoseok, he would.
“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Hoseok has a girlfriend.”
A lie, but you’d never know that.
“Oh.” you appeared bummed. “Nam-”
“No.”
You swallow. “Jimin…?”
“Do you fantasize about them?”
You’ve know his friends as long as he has, and now he’s wondering when you had the thought of fucking them in your mind. 
“I just want to have sex.” you sigh in defeat, not wanting to cause a fight with Jungkook.
“Why wouldn’t you ask me?”
Jungkook doesn’t care how unreasonably spoiled he may sound. You were his best friend, after all. He kept creeps away from you who wanted nothing but to wet their cocks. You were safe with him in the home you and he shared - he’d be damned if he’d allow a man to come in here and fuck you.
You’re silent, and Jungkook continues. 
“You don’t love me.”
Your eyes widen when you feel Jungkook remove himself from you.
“I do.” you quip. “I-I just…I don’t have anyone else. I’m tired of not knowing what it feels like.” watching television with sexual scenes had you wondering if sex was truly as good as they made it seem. You recall hearing from Taehyung, another friend of Jungkook, that porn is often fake and not everything you see was real - but how could it not be when their eyes are rolling and they’re screaming with such passion?
“If you loved me, Y/N, you’d ask me.”
Your heart sinks when Jungkook lifts from his lying position. You hated arguing with him. He was someone you loved and trusted with your life - him being upset with you had your anxiety spiking.
“I thought you had someone you were seeing.” you admit. You recall seeing her a few times in the home. She never spoke, but then again neither did you. She would stroll past you to enter Jungkook’s bedroom and only ever gave you a small grin. 
“Oh her.” Jungkook brushes past the statement. “I am. Somewhat.” he shrugs his shoulders. Her contemplated asking her out - she was decent looking and a good fuck. But he didn’t love her nor respect her enough to make her his girlfriend. He was just bored at the moment. “Why does that matter?”
The same way it matters that Hoseok had a girlfriend, you think. You want to say it, but you didn’t want to upset Jungkook anymore than he already was. “I don’t want to come between that.”
Jungkook wants to laugh. “I don’t love her. I love you.” Jungkook says, a tone in his voice that indicates that it should be obvious. “You are my best friend. You should be able to come to me when you need me. Not anyone else.”
You lift yourself up from the bed, as well, and you slowly nod your head. “Sorry.” you murmur.
Jungkook turns to face you, a full smile on his lips. “It’s okay. I’ll forgive you, Y/N.” Jungkook holds his hand out for you to grab. 
You do, and Jungkook lightly tugs you closer. You and he are face to face now.
“Sex is more than just losing your virginity.” Jungkook’s thumb rubs your knuckles. “Sex should be pleasurable for both of us. Masturbation is a form of sex. You’ve done that already.”
You nod slowly, feeling hot. 
“Tell me, Y/N.” Jungkook says. “When you masturbate, what makes you cum?”
You lick your lips, again embarrassed. You swallow while trying to find the words to answer Jungkook.
“When you watch porn, what do you like?” Jungkook changes the question up, and understands how shy you were - even with him. 
Jungkook waits patiently for you to respond. “I-I…” you glance away from him. His eyes were always so piercing, like small black holes that can swallow anyone whole. 
“Don’t be shy. We’re best friends, right?” Jungkook pulls you closer to him. “If you loved me, Y/N, you’ll tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”
You nod. “Oral sex?” your words come out questioningly. 
Jungkook nods. “Okay. That’s a start. Oral sex is a big part of sex. It’s a form of foreplay. Get things started.”
“I don’t think you should do that.” you’re horrified with Jungkook’s face being so close to your sex. Yes, he’s seen it before - years ago - but that was then. He was a man now and he’s had sex with countless women.
“Why not?” Jungkook tilts his head. 
You’re silent, and Jungkook sighs. “You don’t trust me.”
“I do!” 
“Then why don’t you trust me to pleasure you? You’d rather go to my friends than trust me, Y/N. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I’m sorry.” you quip. “I just don’t think it…looks good?”
Jungkook blinks. 
You swallow.
“Of course it looks good.” Jungkook then laughs. “I’ve already seen it.”
“That was years ago.” you murmur, casting your eyes away. 
“True. But still. You trust and love me just like I trust and love you.” Jungkook places a hand on your cheek for you to look at him. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t hide your body from me. I’ll have to show you mine, too.”
You nod your head.
“We can start now.”
You inhale deeply. You don’t move, and when Jungkook notices he frowns. 
“Y/N. What did I say?”
“Don’t hide from you.” you murmur. 
“Exactly. Here. I’ll help you take your clothes off and you can do the same for me.”
Jungkook is slow when he puts his hands at the end of your shirt. He lifts it up and you stiffen, unsure of what to do next. The shirt comes over your head and Jungkook throws it aside. 
“Okay?” asks Jungkook, his eyes glancing down to the bra you’re wearing. It’s red and basic, but it hugs your breast perfectly. 
You only nod.
“Okay.” Jungkook then goes towards your leggings. They’re tight, but he manages to get his hands inside. He begins to tug and awkwardly, you lift yourself up so he can remove them. Your panties are black and cotton.
“Now you do the same to me.” Jungkook says. He understands you by now, knowing that you’d never take the first move. He grabs your wrists and walks you through it. “Go ahead.”
You’re trembling, you note, as you remove Jungkook’s shirt - an oversize black shirt. You often are reminded how much Jungkook has grown over the years, going from a boy to a man. He worked out often and was athletic. He had many tattoos that litter his skin - you had gone with him for a few of them and pondered how he could sit so calmly. 
“I’ll get up to make it easier.” Jungkook lifts from his bed and waits for you to continue. You’re as slow as before, hands trembling more than before. You tug at the sweats he wore, watching as they fall to the ground. You try to hide the fact that you gawk at the bulge in his briefs, swallowing at the sight. 
“Y/N.”
You blink up to look at Jungkook.
“You trust me, right?”
You nod your head.
“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a grin. “Come here.”
Jungkook leans down, his hand grasping your chin. He no longer hesitates or holds back, placing his lips upon yours.
You’re shocked, completely stiff, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You’ll give into him eventually - it may take a few rounds, but you will.
You’re pushed backwards, back hitting the mattress. Jungkook hovers above you, his hands placing themselves onto your shoulders to keep you in place. 
You gasp for air when Jungkook removes his lips from yours, but then they’re trailing down your jawline to your neck. You’re breathing heavily, unsure what to do.
“You can touch me.” says Jungkook, as if reading your mind. “Don’t just lay there.”
Jungkook continues to kiss at your neck, his left hand leaving your shoulder and grabs your hand. He places it upon his chest for you to take the lead. His hand then goes to your waist to pull you closer to him. 
Your heart thumps that this is happening now - you and Jungkook. Goosebumps litter your skin, the hair standing straight up. But you do as you’re told, hand grabbing Jungkook’s bicep and squeezing it. 
Jungkook forces your legs apart, wrapping them around his waist. You yelp when you feel him, his bulge grinding directly against you. There’s a deep groan from Jungkook that you hear coming from your neck. 
“You have to engage.” Jungkook lifts slightly to look at your face. “Kiss me like I’m kissing you.”
You’re left stunned when Jungkook flips the both of you, his own back hitting the mattress and now you’re on top of him. He places his hands on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “It’ll be easier for you this way. I’ll let you take the lead.”
There’s a tension - one sided - when you lean down to his own neck.
“You’re still shy. It’s just me.” Jungkook sighs.
 It was easier for him to say. He wasn’t the virgin - or the closed off one that has been homeschooled. The only friend she kept was Jungkook, and his friends, but mainly Jungkook. There was no one she could go to that was the same sex that she could vent to about her frustrations. 
“Just let loose, Y/N. We’re friends. There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me view you differently.”
You try your best, even closing your eyes in hopes that’d be better. Your lips place themselves at the nape of Jungkook’s neck, and ever so gently did you kiss him. You allowed your hands to rub softly on his bare shoulders, kissing down his neck until you got to his collarbone.
Jungkook hums to himself, his cock twitching to be let loose from his underwear. 
You were adjusting - only a bit - but you’d soon be fully accepting. Jungkook allows his hands to dip from your waist and he grabs your ass fully in his grasp.
You swallow, hiding back the surprised gasp. You don’t want Jungkook to think you don’t trust him - because you do. You don’t want to appear utterly shy and closed off. You were older than Jungkook and he had to be the one to show you what life was like, as sad as it was.
“Okay. Now kiss me.” 
You nod your head. You want to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, but he doesn’t falter. “You’ll have to look at me eventually, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs. 
“I know.” you murmur back, and now meet his eyes. Jungkook smiles when you do, and his head lifts slightly.
Your head dips down to capture his lips in yours once more. There’s a fire running through you this time at the feeling - no longer hesitant or awkward to kiss him. It felt…normal; as if this is something the two of you always did. 
Jungkook’s teeth catch your bottom lip and he lightly tugs. “Let loose.” he whispers, and then dives into your mouth again. This time, his tongue pushes past your teeth and meets your own, it’s warm and slimy, but it causes you to moan.
Jungkook’s hands grip your ass, keeping you firmly against his erection. He rubs up your sides for a moment, then on your back. His hands are now on your bra and he appears to be swift in unhooking it.
“Kookie…” you murmur against his lips.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook responds. “You trust me, remember?”
You nod, but trust doesn’t help with your self–consciousness. 
Jungkook tugs at your bra until it’s fully off of you. He disgards it, bare hands now taking your breast entirely. He doesn't care how heavy he’s breathing, or how rough his hands squeeze your breast.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook praises.
 It’s weird hearing it - for you at least.
 Jungkook rarely compliments you - not because he doesn’t think you are, but because he never really has a reason to. He sees you the same everyday - his best friend who he has breakfast, occasionally lunch and dinner with. You’re the same Y/N that he shares movie nights with where the two of you cuddle and laugh at whatever was on the screen. 
Now, however, Jungkook has to compliment you. He has to let you know how beautiful you are now - a woman. You grew into your womanly curves over the years, hiding it behind loose clothing, but never truly hiding it. You never hid from him; occasionally wearing shorts that showed your legs and the roundness of your ass, or tank-tops that made your breast appear more plump.
You yelp when Jungkook pinches your nipple. He chuckles at your reaction. “So responsive.” he says, more to himself than to you. 
“W-What-”
Jungkook’s tongue licks on your nipple, shuddering at feeling. He couldn’t help but to bring it entirely into his mouth, tongue twirling and suckling on it while his free hand pinches the other. There’s a euphoric feeling engulfing him right now. Yes, he did think about you sexually at times - he was a man and he couldn’t help it. But this was far better than any feeling, any thought or dream he’s ever had. 
“Does it feel good?” Jungkook manages to say, popping your nipple from his mouth to just engulf the other one.
“Yes.”
You don’t intend to sound so soft and meek, moaning against Jungkook. But you couldn’t hide it any longer. You can feel the wetness between your legs, arousal pooling out - and Jungkook’s grinding didn’t make it any better.
“You can talk to me, Y/N. You can tell me how  much you like it. How I make you feel.” 
Jungkook kisses both of your nipples softly. 
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me how you feel.” Jungkook repeats. “Here,” his right hand drops your breast and without warning, he slaps your ass. The sound echoes, as does you shriek. “I love the way your ass feels.” he then squeezes it in the palm of his hands. “I love the sweet moans coming from those pretty lips of yours.” he continues. 
You’re hot, Jungkook’s words cause a new sensation to run through you - nerves running through your body and meeting exactly between your legs. 
“It feels good when you touch me.” you say, admitting even if you want nothing more than to hide. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook lightly laughs. He squeezes your ass again. “What else?”
You huff, this time now hiding your face. Your head is between his shoulder and neck.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. Just tell me.” Jungkook encourages. “You trust me like I trust you.”
You sigh. Jungkook was going to be the death of you - you were going to die with embarrassment.
“I like the way you look.” 
Jungkook, again, is swift with his movement. He’s once more on top of you. He’s now forcing you to look at him - as if you weren’t embarrassed enough.
You go to cover yourself, but that wasn’t something Jungkook was going to allow. 
“Go on, Y/N.” Jungkook places a quick peck on your lips before he kisses down your neck to your collarbone. 
Your breath is shaky - but it was all Jungkook. His hands rub along your sides as his lips send kisses between your breasts, going lower and lower. “You make me feel…different.”
Jungkook’s lips are now on your stomach. “What’s different?”
“Wet…?”
Jungkook groans. His fingers are hooked between your panties and he wants nothing more than to remove them and dive in, but he’d remain calm for now.
“Look at me, Y/N.”
You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you’re unsure what Jungkook had in store for you. 
You do, however, and Jungkook is now directly between your legs. Your thighs quiver at the sight. 
“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks, and before you can answer, he places a single kiss upon your clothed clit.
Your throat tightens.
Jungkook wasn’t going to stop. He wanted to hear you speak - hear your thoughts, whatever moans you had in you. He didn’t want you to be shy - not with him. He wasn’t a stranger and who else should be the one to take your virginity than him?
Not Hoseok.
Not Namjoon.
Not Jimin - none of his friends.
Just Jungkook.
Dare he say he was entitled to it - you were his best friend. He was there for whatever you needed him to be; and this was one thing you didn’t come to him for (not at first). You wanted his assistance in finding you someone. The thought still upsets him.
“Kookie.” you sigh, hands crashing to your face. 
“So shy.” Jungkook tsks. His hands grip your waist and he drags you to the edge of the bed, him falling to his knees before you. “I’ll take the lead.”
You feel your panties being tugged off. You’re unsure of what to do or say - you knew you had to keep breathing or you’d pass out. The coolness of the air hits you and now you fully accept that you’re naked for Jungkook, completely bare before his eyes to see.
You’re so wet, Jungkook notes, arousal coating your lips and thighs. The thought of how excited you’ve been and nothing has happened yet makes him groan, anticipating what's to come.
Your throat releases a gasp and instantly, your legs clench shut, caging Jungkook in.
“S-Sorry, i-”
“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax.” Jungkook laughs, a gleeful tone in his voice. He had done nothing but flick your clit with his tongue. “Watch me, okay?”
You nod your head.
Jungkook hooks his hands right on your thighs, holding them in a firm grip so you wouldn’t be easily reactive - not without him stopping you. He dips his head back between your legs, tongue dipping between your folds.
Your eyes flutter, unable to truly focus on Jungkook like he wants you to. 
The sight alone is filthy - his head bobbing back and forth while his tongue assaults your clit. Occasionally, his eyes would dart up to capture your reaction, satisfied that you no longer hid your moans from him.
But the noises Jungkook made were another thing. He suckles on your clit, completely ravishing you as if it was the finest meal. He’s animalistic, not caring. He would draw his head back and spit, then continue his assault upon your clit.
“Kookie, I-I, you need to stop.” you try to get away from Jungkook, but he doesn’t allow it. If anything, Jungkook holds you even tighter. You were going to cum, of course, never truly experiencing a man going down on you. Your stomach churns and you feel like you are going to explode. “Kookie, please stop…”
Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at you. Your eyes are snapped shut and there’s a few droplets trailing down your cheeks. Jungkook grunts into your pussy. His fingernails dig into your naked flesh, his tongue laying flat against your clit. He continues to ravish you, not caring about your pleas - it was obvious you wanted more and was far too inexperienced to understand it.
Jungkook dives deeper and deeper, your cries only fueling him for more. Your arousal coats the bottom half of his face entirely. 
There was another attempt to remove yourself, buckling your hips, but Jungkook only shoves you back down upon the bed. Your toes are curling and you’re unable to see straight. There’s a tightness in your stomach that’s utterly unfamiliar to you.
“I’m not going to stop.”
Jungkook’s voice is deeper - deepest you’ve ever heard it.
“Not until you cum.”
 Jungkook’s right hand removes itself from holding your thigh, but that only means he’s holding the other tighter. 
Your back arches when you feel his fingers at your entrance.
“I can’t-”
“You will.” 
Jungkook doesn’t give a warning before entering his finger’s inside of you. You jump at the foreign feeling. You swallow back and shriek.
“So tight.” Jungkook murmurs to himself.
 Two fingers is all you can handle for now. That doesn’t mean Jungkook goes easy on you. He pumps inside of you vigorously, your walls clenching around his digits. Each time he hits a deeper spot that has you jerking.
“I know it feels good, Y/N. My pretty girl.”
You can’t speak, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He pumps and pumps until you’re cumming all over him, arousal splashing onto the hardwood floors of his bedroom. 
You’re a crying twitching mess, whimpering to yourself. Jungkook removes his fingers, satisfied with your appearance.
“I could fuck you right now. You’re so wet, Y/N.”
You exhale, eyes snapping open. “Kookie, I-”
“Don’t tell me you can’t take me.”
Jungkook pushes down his underwear and you freeze.
You’ve never seen Jungkook naked before, never going past witnessing him shirtless.
Now Jungkook is as nude as you, cock erect and hard. His tip is red and leaking with pre-cum, the shaft twitching in anticipation.
“I can’t.” you cry, now dwelling on the idea of having sex with the man.
Jungkook snickers. He grips his cock and slaps the tip against your wet clit. So wet, he thinks. Wet and warm, completely aroused because of him.
“You were willing to fuck my friends.”
Jungkook rubs the tip against your clit in slow circular motions. It makes a wet and sloppy sound as he does.
“They don’t love you, Y/N. Not like I do.”
You twitch at the feeling, overstimulated enough, even if it did feel good.
“Don’t you love me, Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes don't leave your clit. He continues to tap and circle the tip of his cock against it, the sight beautiful.
“I do…”
“Then why do you keep denying me pleasure?”
Jungkook removes his hand from his cock to place it upon your hips, keeping you in place. He begins to thrust forward, sliding his entire cock against your clit.
“I allowed you to cum, haven’t i?” Jungkook grunts. “Milked my fingers like a little whore. But you won’t let me fuck you.”
Jungkook’s words cause you to gasp - that and the way his cock feels against your already stimulated clit. 
Jungkook’s open’s his mouth, a trail of saliva dripping right onto your clit, not because you needed it - you were literally dripping - but just because he wanted to. In his eyes, spitting upon you was an act of marking his territory and after he fucked you - and he was going to regardless - he would assure that only he would be the one fucking you afterwards; always and forever.
Jungkook continues to rub, his pace quickening. 
“Do you think another man would have given you the satisfaction?” Jungkook hisses. “They would’ve fucked you and left, Y/N. This is why I’m here. I love you, my pretty girl…” his tone softens. “...so wet and ready for me. You’ll let me have you, right, Y/N? You’ll let me be the one who takes your virginity?”
Slowly, you nod your head. Jungkook was someone you loved greatly. He was a man and understood how men think - you couldn’t be upset with him now. “Okay…” 
Jungkook smiles wide, full set of teeth shining at you. “My pretty girl. You’re always so good for me. Give me your hand.”
You do as Jungkook tells you to do, and he guides your hand to touch his cock. It twitches in your grip.
“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook demands and groans when you do. “Okay, baby…now center it at your pussy.”
You’re being so obedient for him, Jungkook thinks. He watches as you do what he tells you, the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole. “Good girl.” Jungkook mumbles.
“Don’t you need to wear a condom?”
Jungkook wants to laugh at your words. “Condoms are for people who have one night stands. Why would I wear a condom with you?” he asks, a tilt of his head. He had no intention of allowing you to fuck another man, so him not wearing a condom was alright.
You widen your eyes. “Pregnancy…?”
Again, Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, only stares into your wide eyes. He had no intention of impregnating you now, but if it happened, then it did. That only meant that it’s what the universe wanted.
“You know I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook says.
“I love you, too.” you respond.
Simpering, Jungkook nods. “I know.” he says, and then without warning, he enters you whole. There’s no warming upm Jungkook thinks, the faster he gets it over with, the faster pleasure will come for you.
When your mouth opens to shriek, Jungkook silences you with his lips. His hips snap inside of you, unable to stop. So tight, he thinks, fully milking his cock with your essence. It’s as though his cock fit perfectly inside of you; like a puzzle piece coming together to complete a set.
The pain is excruciating and you’re unable to pull away from Jungkook. His grip on you was intense, fingers bruising into your skin. 
The sound of skin slapping is loud in the room, echoing off the walls. 
“My pretty girl.” grumbles Jungkook when he releases your lips. “Thank you for trusting me, Y/N.”
The pain shoots throughout your body, but hearing those words from Jungkook was worth it to you. You blink away the tears so you can focus on his face.
“Soon the pain will go away, and you’ll love the way I fuck you.”
You nod. You trusted Jungkook.
It takes a while for the pleasure to come, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t. Jungkook hits your sweet spot, slamming you against his bed with each thrust. Your moans are loud for him, so sweet and melodic - he knew you had it in you to let loose.
“Feels good, pretty girl?” Jungkook questions, the question rhetorical. He knows by the way you clench around him that it does - that and your high pitched moans. 
“Feels…so…good…” you grunt, panting along with each powerful thrust.
“Good.”
Jungkook removes himself just so he can turn you around, chest firmly against his mattress. He enters you once more, hitting even deeper than before.
Your eyes snap shut and your arms shoot out, gripping the bed sheets for support. Whatever you once imagined sex would be like didn’t give it any justice. Sex with Jungkook was a pleasurable feeling you’d never forget - you’re unsure how you’d ever be able to go back to masturbating once this was over. 
Both of Jungkook’s hands place themselves on yours, entangling your hangers with his. His lips kiss your back, pounding inside of you with such passion. 
There it was again, the churning feeling in your stomach.
“I feel you, baby.” Jungkook pants. It’s as if you never want him to stop, creaming his cock like your life depended on it. “Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”
You groan, shaking your head at how good you felt. 
“I love you, Kookie.” you murmur so low that it’s barely audible, but Jungkook hears it loud and clear.
 It causes Jungkook to grind into you deeper and deeper, feeling himself come undone at just words. You told him those three words many times before, but now it felt different. Intimate. This was something he’s never heard during sex - and if there was a chance he did, he wouldn’t care. 
You were who Jungkook loved; his best friend since childhood.
You were the one who Jungkook wanted to hear the words from.
Jungkook’s cumming, his heaving breaths ticking the skin of your back. He doesn't bother to pull out of you, instead he milks your walls completely with his seed, shuddering with complete bliss.
Jungkook won’t regret it - cumming inside of you felt right. It wasn’t as if anyone else would be.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook coos, pulling out of you to tuck you further into his bed. He lays beside you, embracing you from behind. “You did so good for me.”
Your heart swells at the compliment, your eyes heavy with slumber.
Jungkook holds you tight as you drift to sleep, satisfied that you were here with him. 
Not Hoseok or Namjoon or anyone else -  but him.
 After all, he was the only one who truly loved you for who you are and didn’t see you as just a hole to fill - he wasn’t like those other men out in the world. No, Jungkook was better than any man you could ever think about being with. He proceeds to place a kiss upon your temple, satisfied that you were his and his alone.
idol version
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luveline · 6 months
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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 23 days
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Shut Up and Kiss Me | Jeon Jungkook One Shot
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Summary: You've been Jungkook's best friend for literal decades but what happens when it turns out he wants to be more than just friends... Pariring: Backup Dancer Reader x Idol Jungkook (f2l they're honestly crackheads I love them) Word Count:13.4k (Daym 😂) Warnings: Explicit language and sexual content yup that's it haha a/n: I got way too carried away with this but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. Let me know what you guys think! Also barely edited but that's pretty much the usual here lol Requested by an anon 💜
"Alright ladies that's a wrap!" the lead choreographer calls out. "Thank you all so much for your hard work these past few weeks. I know this is going to be a comeback that'll go down in history!" he continues and we give ourselves a round of applause before I head over and get my dance bag and get ready to go.
"Someone's eager to get out of here" my best friend/roommate Nari teases. "I already told you I'm headed home for the weekend" I say, sitting down and changing my dance shoes into my sneakers. "Oh right, you should go see your in laws too" she teases, bumping her shoulder against mine while she does the same.
"Hey not so loud! Not everyone knows that Jungkook and I are close like that and I'd like to keep it that way. Plus we're just friends alright" I scold, looking around to see if anyone had caught wind of what she'd said. "I never said anything about Jungkook, you did" she says leaving me biting my tongue and realizing that I risked outing myself all on my own.
"I hate you" I huff and stand up to go but she grabs onto my pant leg to stop me. "No you don't" she laughs. "Be sure to bring back some of your mom's cooking" she reminds me leaving me rolling my eyes at her. "Yeah yeah I know, I'll see you later alright" I say, grabbing my bag and putting the strap around my shoulder while she waves goodbye and starts talking to some of the other dancers.
~~~~~
Walking down the hall I happen to run into Jungkook and Taehyung walking down the hall and I bow politely at both of them and they do so as well before passing each other by. "Check your phone" Jungkook whispers and I nod my head, not turning around in an effort to not cause suspicions.
"Wait is that her?" I hear Taehyung say as they walk away and all I hear moments later is Taehyung crying out in pain when I walk through the elevator doors. Turning back around, now facing them again Jungkook gives me a nervous smile and I laugh in return before leaning over towards the key panel and pressing G for garage.
Stepping out of the elevator and walking up to my car I get an all too familiar chime on my phone signaling a new message and smile once I unlock my phone.
'Working hard today? ' Jungkook sends.
'Don't I always work hard? ' I reply, putting on my seatbelt and starting up the car, making my way to the exit, my drive only being about ten minutes away to my apartment.
'Yeah your cheeks just looked extra flushed and your hair was a mess.'  he teases, making me open my mirror on the sun visor, checking my hair at the red light, seeing nothing a miss with my hair but taking note of those flushed cheeks he mentioned.
'Whatever Jeon. After having seen you walking around with Taehyung definitely brought you down a few points. That man is gorgeous!'  I throw back, knowinghow pouty he gets when I compliment his members. Or anyone else for that matter.
'Hey leave him out of this! I thought I looked pretty handsome today though...guess my efforts were in vein'  he send and I can just imagine the facial expression he's making.
'You did look handsome Jeon but stop fishing for compliments, it doesn't suit you'  I send back, complimenting him while also reprimanding him, a skill I've used time and time again when it comes to him.
Minutes later I pull into my parking spot at the apartments, quickly running upstairs to take a shower and get ready to head out, all the while Jungkook and I have been exchanging messages back and forth, well apart from me being in the shower of course.
As I put the finishing touches on my makeup and check out my outfit one last time I see an incoming FaceTime call from none other than the man himself.
"Hey!" I say, propping the phone up and walking around my room to gather up any last minute things.
"Hey! You look nice, well compared to earlier today" he says, his nose scrunching up, amused by his own words leaving me scoffing at him. "Where are you headed?" he ask seeing as I won't dignify his earlier words with a response.
"I'm about to head out to Busan to see my parents. I haven't been there for a while and my mom has been begging me to come visit for a while now. You know she's still mad at you for stealing me away from them on my birthday right?" I laugh, remembering the look on my mom's face as he was tugging me out the door.
"Yeah but we had fun right? Remind me to apologize next time I see her" he says, rubbing the back of his neck and I laugh at the bashful mannerism.
We continue on our conversation for a while and only when I hear another voice coming in on Jungkook's side do I remember that I've gotta get going.
"Hey! Why are you hiding in here? Our break was over ages ago and we need you to come record some more backing vocals" the voice I can now identify as Jimin scolds getting clearer as he no doubt comes closer.
"I'll be out there in a minute just lemme finish up this call" he says and tries to angle the phone away from Jimin to hide who he's talking to.
"Who's that?" he asks and I can see a slight flush of color bloom on Jungkook's cheeks leaving Jimin laughing when he realizes who it is. "Hi y/n!" he calls out and I laugh after seeing Jungkook roll his eyes at him.
Jimin and I met a while ago when he found out Jungkook was going to Busan and wanted to tag along, not having realized that I was doing the same thing.
"Hi Jimin!" I say happily and Jungkook sends me a quick glare through the phone. "Let's all go out soon! It feels like we haven't seen each other in ages!" he calls out and at that Jungkook starts to shoo him out.
"Alright hyung give me two minutes and I'll be right out" he says, giving him a look telling him to get out or suffer the consequences.
"Bye y/n!" he giggles and I return it saying a quick goodbye and acknowledging his invitation as well. "Bye Jimin! Time and place and I'll be there!" I finish off and he says goodbye one last time before I hear what I can assume is a door closing behind him.
"I should probably get going" I say, picking my up bag and grabbing the phone as well, glancing around one last time before putting my shoes on and walking out to the car. "Are you driving?" he questions and I confirm it as I unlock the doors and get inside, setting my phone in the dashboard mount.
"Drive safe alright! I heard it might get a little stormy out there so be careful" he warns and I nod my head while putting my seatbelt on, smiling at his slightly worried expression. "And how might you know that already?" I tease, surprised at how he could've checked since this is the first time we've spoken about this trip.
"My mom called me to complain about the weather the other day" he groans, rubbing his temple almost as if he was having flashbacks of what looks to have been a not so pleasant conversation.
"Maybe I should stop by? It's been a while since I've seen them" I suggest, remembering how Nari teased me about it earlier. "Sure! I'll let her know that you'll be there for a few days" he says and I nod while turning on the car and pulling out onto the road.
"You should probably get going too though right?" I question, laughing at the fact that he looks as though he's making himself more comfortable on the couch he's sitting on instead of making moves to head out. "Nah I should be good for another ten, they've probably moved onto the next member by now" he yawns and I laugh at his carefree nature.
"Don't you guys have a comeback coming up?" I question, trying to remind him of the responsibility he has to his team. "It's just a single so ten more minutes won't hurt" he winks making me clear my throat and focus more on the road.
We continue our conversation for that ten minutes he was sure he would be afforded before the next member comes in and scolds him, this time being Taehyung. "Who are you talking to?" is all he says before Jungkook says a quick goodbye and hangs up the call. "That man really wants to keep me away from Taehyung" I say out loud, shaking my head at his panicked expression.
Although Jungkook and I work in the same industry he still likes to hide our friendship from the rest of the company and the public in general. He's an idol and I know he wants to protect me but it's still makes me a little sad that I'm not able to meet the rest of his members, or at least not officially.
I've seen them all in passing throughout the building as I'm hired to be a backup dancer in most comebacks but I have yet to be included in one for BTS. I know it's probably for that same reason of him wanting to keep me safe but I wish he wouldn't. 
I want the both of us to work freely and when possible to work together but I'll respect his wishes no matter what. At the end of the day he's the one that'll pay the price if rumors about us were to spread.
He's my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to him so if having our friendship be a secret is the way to protect him then I'll do everything I can to make sure it stays that way.
~~~~~~
As I pull up to my parent's house I see my mom eagerly waiting for me with the front door open and waving for me to come inside.
"Hurry up it's freezing out there, you'll catch a cold from that rain" she call out when I open my car door. "Nice to see you too mom" I chuckle and once I get inside she's already helping me get my rain jacket off. "Let's get out out of these wet clothes right away, I don't want you to spend what little time you have here coughing up a storm" she nags.
Always the charmer that one.
I know she means well but I just wish she would stop worrying so much. I'm a grown woman I can take care of myself. Before I'm even able to say hello to my father she's already rushing me to go into my room and get changed. "Hurry up and get dressed! Dinner's gonna be ready soon" she says while turning around and heading back into the kitchen to finish everything up.
Walking into my childhood bedroom always hits me with a wave of nostalgia especially when I see all of the pictures I have in here. Pictures as me growing up throughout the ages and noticing how Jungkook is in almost every one of them, always making me smile.
We've known each other ever since he moved into the neighborhood. We were about five years old back then and here we are, twenty five years old and our friendship is stronger than ever. 
We met one day on the playground at recess when he was drawing pictures with the sidewalk chalk and I had been playing hopscotch with some of the girls in my class not too far away.
I walked up to him because I noticed he had been all by himself and I wanted to see if he wanted to play with us. He said no because he wanted to keep drawing and so I sat and watched him for a while until I asked him about what he was drawing and from that moment on we became best friends.
We would take the bus home together and take turns going to each other's houses after school and it felt as though my day never felt fully complete if I didn't see him at least once.
We were about eleven years old when he told me he wanted to be a singer and from that day I was his number one fan. Always encouraging him to sign up for talent shows at school and listening to him sing when he wanted to show me a new song he learned and that's also when I started to find my love for dance.
I couldn't really sing, well I could never sing as well as he could so I decided to start dancing. He would sing and I would come up with random routines and it would go round and round like that.
I did it mostly to make him laugh but soon he wanted to join in with me and so we became a duo. We didn't perform for anyone other than our parents when they begged us to so it was almost as if it was our little secret. Just something for the two of us.
When he heard about the show Superstar K having auditions I was the first one to tell him he should try out. He wanted us to audition together but I reminded him that he was the one who could sing. He wanted me to learn but I told him this was his moment and he needed to do it on his own.
I knew from a young age that he was going to be something special and I wasn't going to get in the way of that.
I went with him to the audition and he did amazing but he didn't make it. He didn't have the confidence in himself but I knew that if he just tried his hardest that even if he didn't make it into the show it would still put eyes on him.
When he finished his audition I saw the amount of people coming to give him offers. Seven companies wanted him to audition and I couldn't have been prouder of him!
"How do I even start to figure out which one to choose?" he complained as he shuffled through all the business cards he had been given. "Well take a look at the artists they have under their label, that might be a good place to start" I suggested and that night the two of us spent hours looking up and listening to track after track from all the different groups until our brains hurt.
"This is gonna take forever" he groaned, plopping down on his bed, exhausted after a full day of it and I can't deny that I was feeling the same way. "How about this" I say gathering all the cards up into a stack and fanning them out with the company names faced down so neither of us could see.
"Pick a card, any card" I joked and he chuckles before finally grabbing one and putting it to his chest, not daring to look just yet. I stand next to him and we both take a big breath in and out before he reveals it and the words of what would end up being his future stared us right in the face.
"Big Hit?" he questions having sounded out the english words clumsily, "What does that mean?" he asks, looking over at me like I have all the answers and luckily this time I did. "It means like really popular, like if a song comes out and everyone likes it and they always play it on the radio or something then it's a big hit" I explain and he watches me with those adorable doe eye taking in each and every word.
"So if I want to be a big hit then that means that starting with this label would be a good idea right?" he asks, tilting his head, awaiting my approval. "I mean you would think so right?" I respond and that was the last push he needed to go ahead and audition. 
And thanks to our little nonsensical way of going about choosing he really did become a big hit. It took some time and a lot of effort but he made it!
"Y/n! Dinner!" my mother yells, breaking me out of my walk down memory lane. "I'll be out in a sec!" I yell back and pull off my damp shirt and replace it with a hoodie, which ironically ends up being one that Jungkook let me "borrow" even though he knew he was never gonna get it back.
"Come on y/n it's getting cold" she yells again and I have to shake my head, trying to physically will myself to stop thinking about him now but it's hard not to. Everything about this house reminds me of him, and I like it that way.
~~~~
After dinner and being bombarded with question after question about my life and job and everything the conversation somehow circles back to Jungkook. "How's he doing? He's become such a handsome young man hasn't he?" she says, elbowing my father who gives a slight grunt of approval having been focused on the tv watching some sort of sports game.
"He's alright. I saw him at work when I was leaving and then we talked on the phone a bit while I was packing up to come here" I say and her eyes light up at that fact. "Sounds like you two are still close huh?" she says in a knowing way which makes me groan. "Come on mom you know it's not like that. Jungkook is my friend" I say, taking a drink of water.
"Yeah but friends can become...friendlier" she teases making me choke on my water. "You okay sweetie?" my dad asks, now having turn his attention back to me during the commercial break. "Yeah mom is just teasing me about Jungkook again" I say, taking the napkin he's offered me.
"Well he is a fine young man y/n. Are you guys still close?" he asks and I face palm, both of them being a carbon copy of the other when it comes to him. "Yes dad we're still best friends. Are we done here? I would prefer to keep the interrogation to a minimum while I'm here" I say pushing my chair out and starting to clear the dishes away.
"Oh you know we're just joking. It's nice to see that you're still friends though, regardless of anything else" my mom says while bumping my shoulder just like Nari had. "Me too" I mumble and think about all the memories we've made together since I moved to Seoul.
With all that distance between us while I was living in Busan and even with him being caught up in the whirlwind that is the music industry we never lost touch.
There were times where his responses would be a bit sporadic but it would always be around comeback time when that would happen or sometimes at odd hours while he was on tour but we never went more than a few days without exchanging at least a message or two.
He made that promise to me the day he went to Seoul.
He promised me we would never lose touch and that we would always be there for each other and to this day we've never faltered. I know he's someone I can count on and he sure as hell can count on me too. It's us against the world. It always has been and it always will be.
~~~~
Finishing up the night spending some quality time with my parents was just what I needed. Even with all the prodding and teasing and interrogations it was still something that healed a part of me that I tended to overlook.
I've felt homesick since I left to Seoul and coming back here just makes it even more apparent so that's what keeps me away. I try to convince myself that the longer I stay away from home the better I'll start to feel but that never works. The only thing that does the trick is when I spend time with him.
Jungkook has become my little home away from home and whenever I'm with him that melancholy feeling tends to fade away and I can never thank him enough. I've never told him that but I hope that in some way I could be that for him too.
~~~~
When I wake up in the morning I text Jungkook and ask him if his mom said it would be alright for me to come over and he surprisingly answers right away.
'Yeah she said she'd love to have you and said that sometime this evening would work well'  He relays so I make a mental note of it and spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with my parents before I head out to the Jeon's.
"Tell them we say hello and don't forget to give her the tea that I gave you, and try not to stay out too late, there's a storm coming in and you don't wanna get caught out in it" she calls out to me while I walk to my car. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way home" I say and give her one last wave before getting in the car and taking off.
When I reach their house I'm surprised to see a big black van outside the house but nonetheless walk up to the door anyways and ring the doorbell.
"You're here!" I'm met with a comfy looking Jungkook in a matching grey sweatsuit with a smile painted on his face. "What are you doing here?" I ask, giving him a huge hug right away. It feels like it's been ages since I've actually been able to be this close to him. 
"When I heard you were coming home this weekend I realized that I should come too since I had the whole weekend off" he says, swaying as he hugs me and props his head on top of mine.
"You could've told me! I wouldn't have minded waiting to come up today" I say and he shakes his head chuckling at the suggestion. "And risk making your mom mad at me again? No thanks. Plus it wouldn't have been a surprise if I told you" he says and I lean back to look up at him.
"You know I hate surprises" I say, furrowing my brow and he pokes me in the forehead to make me stop. "Your adorable reaction says otherwise" he teases and at that his mother walks towards us. "Jungkook I told you to let her in, not make her stand in the entryway. Y/n it's so good to see you" she says giving me a big hug and dragging me further into the house.
"Would you like any coffee or tea? It's freezing out there" she says, wrapping her cardigan around herself in an effort to keep out the cold. "Tea would be great, which reminds me my mother told me to bring this to you" I say, handing her the jar of honey yuzu tea.
"Oh we had talked about this the other day! Thank you so much, why don't you go ahead and join the others and I'll bring it out to you in a minute" she says and scurries off to the kitchen. 
"Others?" I ask, turning to face Jungkook who had been trailing behind us. "You'll see" he says with a devious smile and leads me towards the growing noises of a conversation being had in the other room.
"Aye what took you so long?" Jimin says, standing up and giving me a huge hug making Jungkook have to step to the side to avoid being knocked over. "I didn't know that you guys were gonna be here otherwise I would've come sooner" I laugh and Jungkook taps Jimin twice on the shoulder as a clear sign for him to let go.
"Try not to smother her, she wasn't expecting to see any of us" he says making Jimin pull away and give him a wary look that I can't really read but I go on to look around the rest of the room and am met with six more pairs of eyes.
"Oh, um hello" I say as I look around the room and see the rest of the members seated around the room who had been visiting with Mr. Jeon.
"It's been a while hasn't it?" Mr. Jeon says warmly and gives me a gentle embrace. "It has. I'm sorry, I don't come home often and when I do my mom holds me hostage" I admit and him as well as all the guys watching us laugh making me recoil a bit from the unexpected attention and end up bumping into Jungkook's chest.
"Well I'll let you young people have your fun" he says and places a hand on Jungkook's shoulder before making his way into the kitchen to be with his wife.
"You alright?" Jungkook asks and I look up at him and nod, my breathing having gone shallow from our close proximity with my back still against his chest along the 6 person audience we now have. "Just take a deep breath. They'll love you I promise" he whispers and he guides me in the rest of the way and begins introducing me.
"Guys this is y/n, y/n these are my members" he says and is quickly cut off with an arm being thrown around his neck. "Aye! Aren't we more than just your members? I thought I raised you better than that" Jin says while ruffling Jungkook's already fluffy hair.
"Alright, alright get off me" Jungkook groans as he shoves Jin off playfully. "Y/n these are my hyungs" he corrects and at that theres a collective nod amongst the rest. "You already know all of their names so yeah" Jungkook says, scratching the back of his neck and I smile as I see the tips of his ears are getting a bit red.
"Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung I'm one of the backup dancers that HYBE employs every once in a while so I'm pretty familiar with you all or at least I know a lot about you I mean I-" "It's very nice to meet you y/n" Namjoon says, cutting off my nervous rambling right from the start.
"You guys too! Jungkook talks about you all so much that I almost feel like I know you already" I say and they all smile at that. "We feel the same way, Jungkook never shuts up about you" Taehyung says and I can feel Jungkook stiffen behind me and I smile, happy but somehow nervous having learned that information.
"Hyung, a word?" Jungkook says, singling out the one that's closest in age to him and I can see Taehyung's whole body droop before he gets up, realizing the kind of scolding he's bound to get.
Once they leave I'm left with the other five but luckily Jimin is still here so I'm not totally alone. "So y/n Jungkook tells us you've been friends since you were kids right?" Jin asks, starting the conversation off smoothly so as to not put too much pressure on me.
"Yeah! We met when we were about five years old. It really feels like I've know him my whole life" I say, smiling shyly and Jimin takes the initiative of leading me over to sit on one of the arm chairs. "Twenty years is definitely a long time. It's crazy how you guys have been able to stay friends that long with him being an idol and all that" Hoseok says, elbows rested on his knees almost fascinated at the thought.
"Well he made a promise to me before he went to Seoul and promises are very important to us" I say and they all nod, having experienced the same with him since they had known each other for ages already as well. "So you guys are best friends right?" Namjoon asks, leaning forward as well, as if he's working his way up to asking another question.
"I mean yeah, it's kind of embarrassing but besides him and my roommate I don't really have any other friends. Well I mean I have the dancers I work with but they're more colleagues than anything" I relay and they give me a sad smile.
"Yeah that seems to be the case when you work in this industry but hey any friend of Jungkook is a friend of ours as well so you just gained six more friends to add to the list!" Hoseok chimes in.
"Thank you guys that really means a lot to me. I've just been so career minded that I haven't really taken time to make new friends" I say and I'm met with a strong hand on my shoulder making me look up and see a smiling Jungkook looking down at me. "Luckily I'm here though right?" he asks almost as if my words had made him a little insecure.
"Of course! You'll always be my best friend. Nothing and no one will ever change that" I say, placing my hand on top of his and giving it a firm squeeze.
Something Jungkook always seems to need is reassurance about us and that we'll always be together. It might just be because I'm sure he's gained and lost a lot of friends having worked in this industry and seen people's true colors as they started to grow in popularity. 
It's probably hard for him to know who he can and cannot really trust outside of his members.
"Hey what's with that look Jungkook come on sit down there's no need to be so serious" Namjoon says and Hoseok joins in making Jungkook feel a bit more at ease. "Can we sit together?" Jungkook whispers and I nod before getting up and he sits down where I had just been and pulls me down onto his lap.
This isn't an unusual thing between us but from the looks of the six pairs of eyes staring back at us you would think we had done something scandalous.
"Is everything alright guys?" I ask, watching as they collectively start looking back and forth between us before Yoongi chimes in. "Calm down guys they said they're just friends" he says and so eventually the weirdness that had settled in goes away and we continue on throughout the night laughing and talking into the wee hours in the morning.
~~~~
"Is it really already two?" Jimin says and at that I jump. "Wait are you serious? My mom is probably freaking out thinking I got caught out in the storm. I need to get going" I say trying to stand up but I'm stopped with a strong arm around my waist, keeping me in place.
"You mom called my mom a couple of hours ago to make sure you were okay and she told her that you would probably just be staying over tonight because of the storm" he whispers and I shudder at the thought.
Jungkook and I haven't spent the night together since he left for Seoul so the thought of doing it now when I'm sitting on his lap and with his hand dangerously close to crawling under my shirt has me feeling breathless. "Oh okay, but where am I gonna sleep?" I ask and he smiles at that.
"You'll sleep with me in my room, you know, for old times sake" he offers with a shy smile and I nod, nervous but not nervous enough to turn him down. It's Jungkook after all. We're best friends right? Just friends...
~~~~~
"Goodnight guys!" I say after the eight of us have talked for another hour or so, Jungkook following close behind as we make our way upstairs. "Text me if you guys need anything but try not to need me" Jungkook says and I see all of the guys give him a knowing smile besides Jin who has been scandalized by the thought of anything happening but it wasn't something that I had caught onto just yet.
"Behave" is all he says and Jungkook rolls his eyes at him before he rushes me upstairs with Jin scolding him all the way but he's quickly silenced by Yoongi, reminding him that Jungkook's parents are asleep.
"They seem really nice" I say once we've gotten into Jungkook's room. "Yeah they're alright" he says, walking over to his closet and throwing me a tee shirt and a pair of sweats, grabbing the same for himself.
"I'm gonna go use the bathroom unless you want to first?" he asks and I shake my head allowing him to do as he says with him closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in his childhood bedroom just like I had been in mine.
It's been ages since I've been in here, let alone slept in here and I feel as though everything has almost been frozen in time. His mirroring mine with all the pictures his mom and dad had taken of us over the years and even a few of his old drawings he had pinned up on the wall.
I start to get undressed and put on the sweats first and when I'm slipping his shirt over my head his door opens and quickly put it on the rest of the way and hear him start apologizing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I forgot to knock" he says quickly and when I turn around he has both of his hands over his eyes.
"It's alright no big deal" I laugh and he shift from one foot to the other nervously. "Can I open my eyes now?" he asks and I laugh at his almost innocent nature. "Yes you can open your eyes" I say and pinch his side making him flinch. "Hey!" he says and I shush him immediately reminding him of all the sleeping people on the level bellow us.
"No one can hear us from up here you know that" he laughs, reminding me that his parents bedroom as well as everyone else is downstair on the opposite side of the house. The only things upstairs being his older brother's old room and his father's office.
"We should still be quiet" I scold playfully and he takes that as a challenge. "Oh yeah?" he says taking a step towards me and making me take a step back. "Yeah" I say, less confident in my wording than before leaving him lunging at me and tickling me mercilessly to the point where I can't even breathe anymore.
"J-jungkook stop!" I say between painful laugher and he only stops when I start hitting him. "Okay okay. Truce?" he asks, pulling back and holding out his hand to shake. "Truce" I echo, shaking his hand to seal the deal.
We stand there for a second with our hands still connected and swaying them back and forth, neither of us really knowing where to go from here. "We should probably get some sleep" I offer and he nods his head and leads me over to his bed letting me climb in first and him following soon after since his bed and placed against the wall.
"You need anything else? Another pillow? Maybe another blanket?" he asks after we've both settled in. "With the human heater you are? No I'll be fine" I say and he pushes my shoulder a bit me having faced away from him.
I turn around and realize that that might've been my first mistake of many to come.
"Tell me about the comeback you're working on. Have they been nice to you?" he asks, laying on his side facing me, suddenly becoming a bit serious. "Oh, um yeah everyone is really nice and the boys although energetic and goofy have been very professional about it all" I say in reference to the Enhypen comeback I'm working on.
"What's the name of their title track again?" he asks, settling in a bit and moving just a little bit closer, hardly noticeable unless you were fixated on it like I am right now. "Bite Me. You know because their whole back story for the group is Vampires" I say, laughing it off since it could be interpreted in many different ways.
He hums in acknowledgement lost in thought as he glances down at my lips for a second that I nervously bite in response. "It's a partnered dance right? I've heard about it in passing" he asks and I nod my head, "Who are you paired up with?" he asks, tonging his cheek at the thought of it.
"Sunghoon. He's been very quiet and very respectful. If anything I wish he would talk to me a little bit more so we could feel a bit more comfortable with each other but I'm sure we'll get there" I laugh, remembering how he barely spoke to me when we initially got paired up.
"Does he call you Noona?" he asks and I swallow at the thought of him being jealous because if there's one thing I know about Jungkook is that he get's extremely jealous.
"Um, yeah, they all do. You know I don't like keeping that overly formal relationship with anyone so it's been helpful breaking down those walls and a way of treating them as regular guys instead of idols. I think they get enough treatment like that you know?" I ask and he hums in response, not having much more to ask for a few beats.
"How close do you guys get? Like does he put his hands on you?" he asks, clenching his jaw a bit and that's a dead ringer for his jealously growing. "Jungkook this is a part of my job. He doesn't do more than he's supposed to and same with me" I say and I can see how his mood starts to change a bit.
"Hey, what's got you all upset about this?" I ask, not wanting to beat around the bush. I know better and it's best to just confront these things head on. "I just don't like the thought of other guys touching you. I know, I know it's stupid and it shouldn't upset me but it does" he says, flopping down on his back and throwing his arm over his face.
I sit up and turn towards him, pulling his arm off and making him look at me. "Why does it bother you?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why something like this would make him upset.
"Do I really need to spell it out to you?" he says furrowing his brow as if I've done something wrong. "Well obviously you do because I don't understand why you would care about thi-" I start but he cuts me off by pulling my arm and making me fall onto his chest.
"Jungkook I-" "No, don't say anything. Push me away if you don't want this but please don't overthink it" he says, flicking his eyes between my eyes and lips, looking more vulnerable than he ever has.
I hold my breath, taking in what is happening between us and there's nothing inside of me that doesn't want this and he knows that.
We stay there for another second or two until he puts his hand on my neck keeping me in place. "Last chance" he whispers, his breath fanning against my lips and before I can even second guess myself I'm pressing my lips against his.
He keeps one hand on my neck and the other one has found it's way to my hip, trailing up and down my side and eventually grabbing onto my thigh to guide me to straddle him, making the kiss more intense and full of longing.
"We shouldn't be doing this" I say when I break the kiss for a second but he pulls me back in kissing me again in protest. "Shut up" he whispers as a way to remind me to not overthink it.
I run one of my hands through his hair and grip onto the strands wanting to keep him here and never let him go and that sparks a new intensity to the kiss him now flipping us over so I'm now on my back.
I giggle against his lips and he smiles against mine kissing me more and more into a daze, drunk on his lips and the way he's touching me.
His hands become a bit more bold as one stays on my jaw while the other trails up my shirt, keeping a strong hand against my hip squeezing it as a way to tell me he wants more, wants everything I'll give him.
He switched from keeping his hips hovering above me to pressing against mine, chancing a soft grind against them making me whine at the contact making him do it again earning more soft sounds from me.
Soon he grinding into me, his hard on having been brushing against my clit, the friction driving me mad making me breathe out his name when his lips start to trail down my jaw and along my neck, kissing and sucking and biting his way down while his hips never falter.
"Tell me to stop" he says, pulling away and looking down on me, making me furrow my brows in confusion. "Tell me to stop and I will but if I keep going I don't think I'll be able to stop" he says, his lips wet and swollen, his hair a mess and I would be out of my mind if I pushed him away now.
"Don't stop" I say, placing my hand on his neck and guiding him back down to my lips, needing him like I need air and he growls against my lips, his excitement growing ask he slips his hands further up my shirt, now resting on my ribs, so close yet so far from touching me where I want him to.
I whine and he chuckles against my lips before asking me if he can take my shirt off which I answer by sitting up and pulling it off myself leaving him to do the same. My eyes widen seeing his sculpted muscles being a lot more defined than I thought they would be and he smirks once he sees my reaction.
"Like what you see?" he asks and I hit his chest before pulling him back down. "Just shut up and kiss me" I scold and he does just that.
His hands roam the bare skin I've revealed to him and he starts to trail his lips down my neck and onto my chest where he suck marks on it until he's stopped by my bra. He bites it and tugs on a little to gauge my reaction and I arch my back as a wordless plea to take it off which he does immediately.
He curses at the sight of them before looking back up at me. "You're so pretty" he says before pressing his lips up against mine again. his hands finding their way to my breasts first, squeezing them and toying with my nipples granting him more whines when he squeezes a bit too hard.
"You're so good to me" he says trailing his lips down my chest again sucking marks into me as if he way trying to paint me as his own, leaving me with the proof of what we had done together.
When he wraps his lips around my nipple I know that I'm a goner, my whole body on fire and all my senses trained on him.
Watching as his brows furrow in concentration, hearing as he groans against them, giving both of them the same attention making me lose my mind. Still tasting him on my tongue, smelling the minty flavor as he licked it into my mouth. Feeling his hands traveling lower, toying with the drawstring I have tied tight around my waist.
He lets go of my nipple leaving it puffy wet, hardening even more from the cold air reaching it after having been left the warmth of his mouth. "Can I take them off?" he asks and I nod my head but he shakes his. "Use your words" he says, tugging on the string but not enough to untie it.
"Yes Jungkook please" I choke out, my rational brain having been lost a long time ago. "Can I take it all off?" he says toying with the waistband of my under ware as well. "Yes" I say and he smile from not having to prompt me again.
He looks at me for another second and then he busies himself with taking off the last bits of clothing that was hiding me from him.
Once he pulls it all off he curses from being met with my glistening folds and trails his hands up my thighs and looks up at me wordlessly asking for permission. "Touch me Jungkook please, do something" I groan, getting restless with the pace he's going at.
"Patience princess" he taunts and I hold my breath after hearing that pet name roll off his tongue like that. "You gonna be quiet for me?" he asks, trailing his nose against my inner thigh. "I thought you said n-no one could hear us up here" I choke out and he chuckles dryly, surprised I've still got enough of a clear mind to talk back.
"That's true but it depends on where you are in the house. In a perfect world they would all be sound asleep but if someone was to be roaming around, well let's just say it's best if you stay as quiet as you can" he says, blowing cold air onto my center leaving me flinching at the feeling.
"Me? What about y-you?" I stutter and he tilts his head at me. "We both know who the loud one is gonna be" he says now cocking a brow at me, daring me to argue otherwise which I don't leaving him turning his attention back to what he was about to do.
He looks between my folds for a second almost studying it and I groan a bit, embarrassed at the sight but he simply kisses my inner thigh in response. "Everything about you is so pretty even your pretty little pussy. Even better than I thought it would be" he says and before I'm able to react to that he's already put his mouth on me.
Tracing his tongue up and down my folds and sucking on my clit, taking his time and being gentle with me, learning what brings me the most pleasure from the sounds I'm making and the way my thighs start shaking.
"You're so perfect. So pretty and vocal for me" he growls and I moan a his words of praise. He continues his ministrations until my back is arching off the bed and I'm so close to cumming stopping only to praise me again tipping me over.
"There you go, so so good for me" he says, pumping his fingers inside me to fuck me through my high, only stopping when it gets to be too much. "You did so well. So quiet for me, making sure only I could hear you. Making all kinds of soft sounds for me" he praises before kissing me, making me taste myself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth and never wanting to come back to reality.
"You think you can give me another one?" he asks, squeezing my hip and dragging his eyes down my body again. "Yeah" I whisper, watching as his hunger grows. "You gonna let me fuck this pretty little pussy? Been dying to for so long" he says making my eyes widen, realizing that what I heard before wasn't something I made up.
"You've been what?" I ask, getting breathless at the thought of him wanting me like this. "Haven't you figured it out yet? It's been so hard for me to stay away from you. I just didn't realize I had been doing that good of a job" he says and I get even more confused.
"Jungkook what are you trying to say?" I ask, wanting to get a straight answer out of him. "You're really gonna make me say it...Alright" he mutters to himself and I can see how embarrassed he's gotten all of a sudden.
"I know this has kind of been done backwards but I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and I know love is a strong word and I know now isn't the best time to say something like this but I-" he rambles but I pull him down into a kiss that shows him that I've felt the same way. I've just been too scared to admit it.
"Just fuck me and we'll talk about this later" I say against his lips, breathless from how long that kiss had gone on. "Someone's eager" he teases and I glare at him telling him to get on with it or stop. "Okay okay" he laughs and strips down and lays between my legs.
My eyes widen at the sheer size of him, he's not too big but definitely bigger than I would've thought based on how tight his jeans have been throughout the years. "It's okay I'll make sure it won't hurt" he says nudging his nose against mine.
"Do you trust me?" he asks and I answer 'yes' without any hesitation. "Tap me twice if it gets to be too much" he says and I nod before he's planting his lips against mine while he rubs the tip up and down my folds making me mewl and pull him closer.
He pushes the tip in and it's already got me close to cumming. After everything that's happened today I never thought we would've ended up here. He presses in further and I let out a high pitched whimper and he stops, breaking the kiss.
"Are you okay?" he asks, looking down on me, mesmerized by the sight of my flushed cheeks and dilated pupils with the fucked out expression I'm already giving him. "Yes keep going" I pant out and pull him back down into a kiss, trying to muffle my gasps and moans against his lips.
Once he's bottomed out he stops, enjoying to warmth of my walls and grunting when he feels how hard I'm clenching around him. "Fuck, are you alright?" he asks, turning his full attention to me, pushing away his urges and making sure that I'm feeling good too.
"So big, I'm sorry just gimme a sec" I pant and he chuckles, placing a soft pecks on my lips. "We'll take it slow" he says and after a couple more seconds I tell him to move. He slowly pulls out of me the slightest bit and pushes back in, inching further and further out making his thrusts go deeper every time.
"Fuck you're so tight" he grunts, biting my shoulder as a way to drown out some of his sounds of pleasure. He's finally able to pull almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in and he looks down at where we're connected and curses under his breath before he thrusts back inside of me, bottoming out and knocking the air out of my lungs.
He settles into a faster pace than before, growling in my ear how good I'm making him feel. "Fuck I've been dying to do this for so long. You drive me fucking insane, making me feel so fucking good. You're so perfect for me" he says, praising me and driving me utterly speechless, not being able to think straight and the only word that falls from my lips over and over are his name muttered amongst other incoherent noises that only encourage him to keep going.
My walls flutter around him and start getting tighter, a clear sign to him that I'm close and he coaches me through it. "I know, I know" he mutters, his forehead resting up against mine as our breath intermingles, getting closer and closer to that high.
"I can't I can't" I cry out, squeezing around him and making him curse, a few tears streaming down my face "It's okay, you can cum" he says and at that I tip over the edge losing myself and forgetting to be quiet, making him throw a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.
"S-so close princess" he stutters out and I nod, letting him fuck me through my high and he's cumming soon after, smashing his lips on mine, not trusting himself to muffle his own cries.
He continues doing shallow thrusts into me until he's spent, both of us panting and overstimulated and he pulls out of me making both of us hiss at the feeling before he plops down on his back beside me.
We lay there for a second, catching our breaths and when I glance over at him I realize that he's already been looking at me and without saying a word we both bust out laughing.
"Did that really just happen?" I question, flipping over on my side to face him. "Yeah, um I guess it did" he chuckles nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "What's wrong?" I ask, scared that he might've regretted it. "No nothing's wrong! You're perfect, this was perfect I just feel bad about doing this all wrong" he says, overthinking things just like he told me not to.
"Hey, this is us we're talking about. Nothing ever ends up going the way it's supposed to. I don't regret doing it this way. Do you?" I ask, hoping his answer will be no. "I don't regret it I just wish I could've confessed to you properly. You know, asking you out on a date and all of that stuff" he says, more shy than anything.
"Jungkook we've known each other for twenty years. I think we're past doing things properly. Plus for what it's worth" I pause and whisper in his ear, "I'm in love with you too" I say and the next second I'm back on my back with him on top of me again.
"You're just dying to get fucked again aren't you?" he growls, against my lips making me laugh at his change in demeanor. One second he's a shy insecure Koo and the next he's Jeon Jungkook ready to fuck my brains out. I wouldn't want it any other way though.
"Maybe" I tease and and he trails a hand up and down my inner thigh. "What do you mean maybe? Hmm?" he says trailing kisses down my neck this time leaving big smooches making so much noise with each kiss leaving me writhing around, laughing and trying to push him off from how ticklish it is.
After we've both calmed down he gazes down at me, taking in all my features before gliding his eye down my torso to where we're pressed against each other.
"You ready?" he asks, trailing his finger up and down my slit making me shiver at the process. "Still so wet for me" he groans, kissing me and playing with my clit making me squirm. "Please" I breathe out and he lines back up before looking up at me. I nod my head and he looks back down, pushing just the tip in and noticing how I tense up.
"Still sensitive?" he asks, running a hand up and down my side, giving me kisses trying to make me feel more comfortable. "A little. Just go slow" I say and he nods, pushing into me inch by inch taking care to read my reactions and slow down when my breathing picks up until he's bottomed out.
He kisses me on the forehead and rasps a chant of praises in my ear. "So good for me. You're doing so well. You feel so good. You were made for me" amongst other things that give me a fluttery feeling in my stomach and making me let out breathy moans in response.
"Can I move?" he asks and I take a deep breath before nodding and he takes my words from before so seriously. Rocking his hips back and forth so carefully and making my mind melt, feeling every inch and whining when he hits that spot.
"Right there?" he asks, hitting it again and he takes my gasp for breath as a response, getting high from how good I feel wrapped around him and all the reactions I couldn't hold back even if I tried. This pace feeling more intense, more intimate.
As we reach our highs, one soon after the other I find myself slowly losing consciousness and he kisses me until I fade away, loving how slow and lazy they get as the minutes pass by.
He pulls out of me once I've slowly drifted off leaving me mewling in my sleep making him lose his mind and wanting to go again but he holds himself back and chooses to laugh at how adorable he find me. Lazy and fucked out with a small pout on my lips making him somehow fall even more in love with me.
He knows I should pee but he'll let me rest for a bit, going to the bathroom to clean himself up before coming back to watch me sleep before ultimately cleaning me up, knowing that I'll hate the feeling of waking up messy more than waking up to him taking care of me.
I whine in my sleep when he dabs the warm towel around and on my center, apologizing and doing his best to hurry up but still making sure to be gentle with me. Once he's almost finished is when I finally come to and start to open my sleep ridden eyes.
"I'm sorry I had to wake you but you should really go pee before we go to bed" he says and I hum in agreement, taking a second to wake up before reaching out my hand, a nonverbal plea for him to help me up which he does so graciously.
Luckily he has an ensuite and so I don't have to worry about covering up but I still end up grabbing his shirt and slipping it on before having him help me to the bathroom, legs still feeling wobbly as a result of what he did to me.
He laughs at my efforts and decides to scoop me up instead, plopping me down on my feet and leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him to thankfully grant me some privacy, we're close but not I'll go to the bathroom in front of you close.
I sit down and take a second to clear my head, trying to process everything that just happened.
I just slept with my best friend who has been in love with me for years and I finally admitted to the both of us that I have been too and now...well now what? I take a deep breath and finish up, standing up and flushing to toilet before going to wash my hands, gasping at the sight of my mascara running down my face, it's not a lot but still.
"Why didn't you tell me I looked like this?" I whine, catching him in the middle of changing the sheets. "What's the problem? You look hot" he says nonchalantly. "More like a hot mess" I groan, helping him finish up making the bed.
"The fact that I made sure you look freshly fucked is hot" he says, coming up to me and grabbing me by my hips, pulling me into him and planting a smooch on my pouty lips that I eventually relax and deepen the kiss into a slow sensual one.
"No, not again" I say breaking the kiss and stepping back. "How did you know I was gonna-" "We might not have done this before but that doesn't mean I don't know what you're up to" I say, turning away from him and going back to the bathroom, making sure to sway my hips a little bit to taunt him.
"Keep acting like that and you won't be leaving this room anytime soon" he growls as I slowly close the door leaving it open just enough for me to stick my head out. "Is that a threat?" I ask playfully, loving the reactions I'm getting out of him. "That's a promise princess" he rasps leaving me widening my eyes before closing the door quickly and quietly behind me, still close enough to hear his dry laugh in amusement.
After washing my face and using a new toothbrush I found in his drawer I climb back into bed and he pulls me into him immediately, leaning over me and placing his phone on his bedside table and notice there's somewhat of an unreadable expression on his face.
"What's wrong?" I ask, leaning back to look at him, worried that something might've happened. "Nothings wrong I just think you're gonna get mad at me if I tell you" he says, laying back down and pulling me closer, making it harder for me to look at him but I pull back again.
"Why would I get mad at you?" I ask, now even more suspicious. "A few of the guys heard us" he mumbles and I jump up almost falling out of the bed in the process. "What do you mean a few?" I ask, horrified at the thought. "All of them..." he say, wincing at the thought of my next reaction.
"All of them?!?!? Jungkook you said no one could hear us up hear!" I whisper scream, blushing at the fact that we got found out so easily. "Well everyone but Yoongi. He was the first one to knock out but I'm sure the guys will end up telling him" he relays, mumbling the last part.
"Jungkook" I scold, hitting his chest a few times. "Hey we're adults and we didn't do anything wrong. It's their fault for being perverts" he says, rolling his eyes at the thought.
"What did they hear..." I ask just above a whisper as if the walls had ears. "Nothing too crazy just the bed creaking a bit and some muffled voices" he says and at the I craw under the covers, trying my best to disappear.
"Hey what's the matter" he chuckles trying to pull the blanket off of me but I keep a strong grip on it. "Just leave me here to die" I groan and he laughs again. "Come on it's not that serious" he says, trying to pull them off, this time succeeding.
"Nothing serious? You just told me that your bandmates, that mind you I just met tonight-" "Well technically it was yesterday..." he cuts me off. "Not the point! You're telling me they not only heard us having sex but it was after the both of us swore up and down we were just friends? Jungkook I'm never gonna be able to face them" I say, grabbing a pillow and laying down on my back, burring my face in it.
"Just do it, put me out of my misery" I plead, my voice muffled while I ask him to smother me which he does so for about ten seconds before letting up after I start making noise. "You were really about to kill me weren't you?" I say, sitting back up and hitting him with the pillow before he grabs it and throws it on the other side of the bed and out of reach.
"No...but I do like the idea of breath play" he grins and I tackle him, making him fall on his back and trapping his wrists against the mattress. "This isn't funny Jeon this is serious" I scold and he laughs, enjoying how completely and utterly mortified I am.
"How did they even find out?" I groan, rubbing my temples and sitting back, still straddling his waist. "Taehyung was looking for a bathroom and woke Jimin up to help him find it and when they heard us Jimin woke Hobi up who tried to wake Yoongi up but he just groaned out a cruse leaving Hobi waking Namjoon up who hesitated, but still ended up waking Jin up" he lists off making me cringe more and more as the list goes on.
"That's it, I'm staning Seventeen. My bias is Mingyu and my bias wrecker is Hoshi. Here's my Army card and my light stick" I say, holding out two empty hands and he swats them away, refusing the offer
"Hey! Why out of the thirteen of them does my best friend need to be your bias? Am I not enough?" he pouts. "You're enough but that doesn't mean I can't pick a bias. It's not my fault all your friends are hot" as soon as the words leave my mouth he flips me on my back, glaring at me with a jealousy I've never seen from him.
"Come again?" he growls. "No that's alright, three's good enough for me" I say, teasing him and using an alternate meaning instead. "Ha Ha you're soooo funny" he says with a fake laugh, rolling his eyes at me. 
He gets off and leans up against the headboard, letting out a huge sigh and running his fingers through his hair. "Hey you know I'm just teasing you. You're the only idol, no, the only man I need in my life alright" I say, pulling his face back towards me and kissing him, soft and sweet and he tries to deepen it again but I pull away leaving him groaning at the denial yet again. 
"Nope bed" I say, tapping him twice on the chest and turning around, giving him my back. "Come on please" he whines, cuddling up close and rubbing his already semi hard against me. "I'm tired Jungkook" I say, pushing his hips off of me and he pouts burying his face into my neck. 
"Can I put it in? I won't do anything" he says against my skin, placing a couple kisses here and there leaving me hardly any sanity to say no. "You're into cock warming huh?" I chuckle and he hum in acknowledgment. 
"Come on please" he asks, rubbing it against my ass again until I finally lose the mental battle I'm having. "Fine but I wanna sleep Jeon so no funny business" I say and he quickly takes off the boxers he had thrown on and lifts up the shirt I'm wearing and eases it inside of me, nothing stopping him since I have nothing on underneath. 
I whine a bit at the stretch, this being a different angle than before and he kisses my neck to distract from the pain. Once he's settles in he takes the strong hand he had gripping my hip and slides it up my waist, grabbing one of my boobs and sigh, comfortable and ready to pass out. 
"Who said you could touch me like that too?" I ask and he shushes me and goes quiet, quickly drifting off to sleep. 'This man is unbelievable' I think to myself and try to ease my mind, breathing and trying to distract myself from the fact that I have Jungkook's dick inside of me while he's happily asleep behind me with his big tattooed hand around my breast, occasionally squeezing it in his sleep. 
After coaching myself through it and mentally blocking it all out I eventually drift off to get some well earned rest...
~~~~
"Jungkook, y/n breakfast!" is the next thing I hear, Mrs. Jeon calling us to come down and it takes everything in me to not ignore it and fall back asleep. "Jungkook" I say sleepily, still in a fucked out daze with my senses coming back to me one by one and remembering that I still have his dick buried deep inside me. 
"Jungkook your mom made us breakfast" I mumble out and all I'm left with are his soft snores and his hand squeezing my breast, still very much asleep. I take a deep breath and try to figure out my options here and decide to give him a not so rude awakening, fucking myself back against him leaving him stirring awake, letting out breathy moans still not fully conscious of what's going on. 
Once he starts to come to he slides his hand down to my hip, mumbling my name sleepily against my skin. "You're not playing fair" he says, moaning into my ear and only making me need him even more. "They called for us to come down for breakfast" and at that she echoes what she said before leaving Jungkook groaning, hating the thought of stopping. 
"Be there in a minute" he yells, trying to keep his voice level. "That hurt" I complain, scolding him for yelling in my ear. "You'll get over it" he says and bites down on my neck before gripping my hip again. He takes over, thrusting harder into me leaving me covering my mouth, staying quiet as a mouse knowing that for sure anyone could hear us. 
After both of us have come down from our high Jungkook give my shoulder as kiss and slips out, both of hating the loss of contact but knowing we need to stop. He gets up and brings me a warm damp towel and cleans me up before throwing me some new clothes to change into. 
"Can I borrow a hoodie too?" I ask and he turns around, placing it on the bed next to me. We take turns going into the bathroom and straightening ourselves up and I shrug the hoodie on at the end, throwing the hood up, pulling the drawstrings and tying them tight leaving him laughing at the sight. 
"What?" I ask, glaring at him. "You look ridiculous" he snorts and I roll my eyes leaving the bathroom and going back into his room, "I'd rather look ridiculous than show everyone downstairs what you did to me" I say, plopping down on his bed and waiting for him to put a shirt on although I would very much prefer he didn't. 
"It's fine don't worry about it. All the guys already know" he says, throwing on a hoodie on as well after noticing how cold it is. "Yeah but what about your parents! There's no way in hell I'm letting them see this" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and mentally praying that I'll sink into the floor to avoid this interaction all together. 
"They already know that I've liked you for the longest time so it was only a matter of time until this happened" and my jaw drops at the thought. "Your mom knew too? How many people knew before me" I ask, scared of what the answer might be. "Pretty much everyone that I'm close to. Even your parents knew" he says giving me a crooked smile.
"My parents knew?!?!" I gasp in total disbelief that this is happening. "It's not my fault you're oblivious" he say and I wack him in the arm leaving him laughing at, from his perspective my continued adorable reactions. 
"Let's just go downstairs and have breakfast alright. I promise you everyone knew this was gonna happen and they all have been very supportive of it for the longest time" he says, guiding me up and out of his room. "You know this isn't making me feel any better right?" I pout and his only response is placing a kiss on my lips before running downstairs leaving me behind. 
I take a deep breath and follow slowly behind him into the most embarrassing breakfast I'm sure I'll ever have.
"Good morning sleepy heads" Mrs. Jeon greets us as she places a bowl of strawberries on the table along with the other incredible looking food already set out for us. "Good morning" I say and plop down on the seat next to Jimin and across from Jungkook. 
"Did you guys sleep alright" he asks with a knowing smile leaving me sinking further down on the seat and covering my face. "I don't wanna talk about it" I mumble and he laughs but leaves it at that. It doesn't stop the amused glances from the rest of the group and the not so subtle teasing along with it though. 
"You alright there y/n you look kinda cold" Tae says as I take a drink of water making me choke, Jimin tapping on my back as I cough through it and try to catch my breath. "Yeah just a little" I say and glance over at Jungkook who is clearly loving this. 
He winks at me before reaching for my plate and adding some food to it, knowing what I like and don't like and putting the perfect amount. 
You know, I really am oblivious now that I think about it. He's always done stuff like this and has always taken care of me and wants to make sure I'm okay. I guess I always just chalked it up to friendship but again, I'm clearly just oblivious.
~~~~~
As the breakfast continues it goes from harmless teasing to comfortable conversation and soon we're all getting ready to head off. 
Once Jungkook and I are back upstairs I go into his room with the intention of gathering up my stuff but he has other ideas and presses me against the door, kissing me breathless. 
"Jungkook we need to get going" I groan and he kisses me once more before backing away. "Okay I just can't help it" he says, sad as if he had gotten his gameboy taken away. "I'm sure you'll live" I laugh and he rolls his eyes before getting a bag for me to put my stuff in and making sure I find everything. 
"Here" he says, throwing me my bra he found that had some how ended up the opposite side of the room. "Hey!" I yell and he giggles at my reaction before running out and heading downstairs. 
"Is y/n ready?" Jin asks as he looks back up towards the way that Jungkook had just came from. "Yeah she'll be out in a second" he says and Jin nods before smacking him upside the head. 
"Hey! What was that for?" he yells, making all the guys laugh at the interaction. "I told you to behave yet you did the exact opposite" he scolds, reminding him of the warning he gave us before we went upstairs. 
"Yeah well it kinda just...happened" he says shyly. "Uh huh" Jin says, rolling his eyes at him and walking out the door with a few other members. "I just hope you were careful" Hobi says putting a hand on my shoulder. "Hyung" he whines, dragging the word out leaving Hobi giggling on his way out to the car. 
"You gonna be ready to head out?" Namjoon asks when the others have already placed all of their stuff in the trunk. "Yeah but I'm gonna head back with y/n. I'll have a staff member pick me up from her place later" he says and Namjoon gives him a suspicious look before nodding and heading out as well. 
When Namjoon is just walking out is when I just start coming downstairs. "Oh are you guys all heading out?" I question surprised to see them go so soon. "They're gonna get going but I'm gonna drive back with you. Well as long as that's okay with you?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck again, I swear that's my favorite thing he does. 
"Sure, you can drive back with me" I say giving him a soft smile making him light up. "Awesome! Lemme just go say goodbye to mom" he says hurriedly and rushes to go find them with me following slowly behind. 
"You guys taking off too?" she asks, giving me a hug after letting go of Jungkook. "Yeah I've got a lot of work to do and need to rehearse before I meet up with the artists again this week" I say, pulling back and giving her a soft smile. "Well don't work too hard and make sure to keep an eye on him. And for heavens sake Jungkook ask her on a date already" she teases, whacking Jungkook on the arm. 
"Mom" Jungkook whines and I smile at the interaction. "Don't worry I'll keep him in check" I say and she chuckles while Jungkook glares at me. 
"Where's Mr. Jeon?" I question not seeing him anywhere. "Oh he had some errands to run but I'll let him know that you said goodbye" she says, placing a soft hand on my arm. "Yes please give him my best and thank you so much for everything! Hopefully we'll see each other again soon" I say and she nods and starts to walk us out. 
"I'm sure we will, you've gotta make sure to drag him along with you" she says, whacking him on the arm again leaving him rubbing the area, no doubt a bit sensitive from being thoroughly abused this morning. "I will" I say and we finish up our goodbyes at Jungkook's house and are soon finishing up at my parent's house as well. 
"Ask her out on a date already Jungkook I want some grandkids" my mom not so subtly whispers. "Mom!" I whine, surprised that she would be so bold to say something like that. "Honey you're not slick I promise. I could only imagine the damage that hoodie is hiding under there" she says with a wink. "MOM!" I yell and Jungkook giggles, oh how the turntables have turntabled. 
"Don't worry I've got it all under control" Jungkook says, giving my mom a hug and she's quickly shooing us out, reminding us to drive safe. "Hey toss me the keys" Jungkook says leaving my brows furrowed together but doing so all the same. 
"You wanna drive?" I question and he nods his head happily. "Yeah I don't get to do it often so I like to do it when I can" he explains, sinking down into the driver's seat. "You know that really makes me regret my decision" I say worriedly, doing just the same. "Oh come on I'm a great driver" he says, and I cock a brow at him. "Uh huh" I say, emphasizing each syllable and he rolls his eyes at me, starting the car and backing out of the driveway after we've both put our seatbelts on. 
We wave goodbye to my mom one last time and then we're on our way back to Seoul. 
"You know you better not make me regret this" I warn after we've been driving for a while making him look over at me. "Regret what?" he asks, turning down the music that we've been listening to. "Letting you take my virginity" I say and he swerves slightly. "Hey be careful!" I scold and quickly regains control of himself again. 
"You what? You mean to tell me that a fine ass, driven, mature and independent woman like you was a virgin?" he says, shocked at the thought. "Well it's the fact that I'm so driven and independent that that anything like that was put on the back burner. Plus how am I gonna find a regular guy attractive when I'm surrounded by idols all day?" I say and he sighs and rolls his eyes. 
"Don't get jealous" I taunt. "I'm not jealous!" he refutes. "Oh so you wouldn't care if Taehyung gave me his number?" "He did what?!?!" he says, swerving again when he goes to look at me. "If you're gonna keep doing this when I say the slightest thing then I'm gonna need you to pull over so I can drive" I say while holding onto the handle above the door. 
"It's fine, I'm fine" he says and takes a deep breath, continuing on our drive and the car goes silent for a while. 
"Did he really give you his number?" he mumbles, clearly still jealous. "No, but Hobi added me to the group chat" and he groans at the thought of it. "Great! Now I'm gonna have to pay more attention to what's going on in there" he whines and we continue on our journey laughing and teasing and singing and making fools out of ourselves the whole time. 
I guess some people really are meant to be together. Who knew that that quiet little kid drawing with sidewalk chalk on the playground would be the answer to my forever... 
The End... (lemme know if you guys want an epilogue hehe)
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selineram3421 · 3 months
Text
*watching Hazbin Hotel and sees this deer man kicking his feet* I must have this in a fic!
Lovesick Alastor
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Alastor X Reader
Warning ⚠
⚠ The tale of the Radio Demon falling in love. Blood, possessive, obsessive, yandere coded Alastor ⚠
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Alastor had felt indifferent to romance for years.
What a silly thing! It was too stupid, dangerous, something that can turn you into a fool and get you killed.
Yes, he stayed cleared of it in life and in Hell.
That is until he got to know you.
You.
A lovely demon that is passionate in everything they do. A strong, powerful, and loving person who can be a bit of a klutz at times.
The first time he met you, you were dancing and singing to a song playing on the phonograph, the vinyl having a very energizing tune.
Rosie had sent him to you to try and start up a deal. You were starting up a shop nearby the colony and needed help getting your footing into the door. Your store was lacking in attention.
The perfect person to get a soul from.
Something held him back though. He just had to get to know the demon that tripped over their feet when spotting him.
"Falling for me already?", he joked.
But it was him who fell first.
You shined so brightly, how could he not?
Instead of having your soul the Radio Demon set out to have your heart.
Rosie was surprised that her friend did not make a deal and questioned him, curious with the change.
"Alastor, you never turn down a deal! Especially when this one is so easy.", she put down her tea cup, setting it down on the saucer.
"It's nothing to be concerned about, really. I just found something better.", he grinned and ate an appetizer.
"Hmm, alright. If you say so.", she let it drop for now.
Alastor paid a visit to your shop everyday.
He helped you renovate, pick out the best products for you to sell, and even had the pleasure to celebrate the first official opening.
Your shop was that of knick-knacks, it had things for customization. Mostly for anniversaries, birthdays, and celebration sorts. Doing things like engraving, embroidery, and carving.
One day you gave him a gift of his own.
"I wanted to thank you for all the help you've given me over the past few months.", you smiled and gently placed a small round box in his hand. "I hope you like it."
"Oh! And what is this?", he said and opened it, hearing music and a small smoke figures rising from the box to dance.
He noticed that the figure looked a lot like him and you, which got his dead heart to skip.
"This is wonderful."
Alastor looked up from the box and saw you beaming with joy.
"I'm so glad you like it!"
"No darling, I love it.", he corrected and took your hand. "If my guess is right, might I have the pleasure of courting you?"
"Only if you are true.", you squeezed his hand.
"Nothing but for you.", he lifted your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.
After that he quickly went to Rosie and almost kicked the door down.
"I have news!"
"Don't you kick my door!", his friend walked over to greet him.
The Radio Demon's smile was wide and he had an extra bounce in his step.
"I have news."
"You've said that already.", Rosie guided him over to her office.
After settling in, she sat down and patted the seat next to her. "Now, tell me what's got you so theatrical. Not that you aren't but this is more than usual."
"I can't sit now! I have to prepare!", the red dressed demon exclaimed. "I've begun courting someone and they've already given me a gift. I must return that tenfold! No! A hundred times more! A thousand! Millions!"
Rosie gasped and stood in shock.
"You? In love? I never thought I'd see the day!"
Alastor quickly turned towards the door. "I need to get them flowers!"
The woman quickly put a stop to his rambling.
"Now hold on old boy.", she sat him down. "Have you given thought to what they like the most? Surely you must have more ideas than just the old rose bouquet."
"Of course!", he laughed and pulled out a list from his chest pocket.
Once getting the all clear from his friend, and more ideas for gifts and actions, he took off to get something that would make you happy.
Alastor did everything and more.
Spoiling you with anything you could ever desire. Of course, this also caught the attention of his rival.
"When the fuck did this happen!?", Vox stared at the distorted screen.
It was a picture of the Radio Demon and a lovely looking thing on his arm.
"Don't know but its what Velvette found while scrolling.", Valentino said while cleaning his gun. "They don't look that entertaining."
The next day you found the underling of T.V. Overlord in your shop.
"Hello? Is there something you'd like to place an order on?", you asked walking over.
"Hello! My boss sent me here.", they handed a clipboard to you. "Please sign here for the package."
"Package? I didn't buy anything.", you said confused.
"Something was sent to you from my boss. This is just for confirmation that you received it.", they pushed it closer to you.
"Why?", you looked over the paper, not even taking the clipboard from the demon.
"Please just sign it.", they sighed.
"Dear? What's taking so long?", Alastor walked out of the back room, static growing louder once seeing the demon with the Vox-tech logo on his jacket. "Why are you here?"
"I'm j-just doing my job, sir.", the demon froze.
"Alastor.", you said, quickly getting the deer demon's attention. "I'll handle this. Don't you worry.", you smiled.
"Very well.", he quickly agreed and backed off, glaring at the demon. "Don't let this take long.", he threatened them.
You turned to the demon and smiled.
"I reject it, whatever it is."
Of course Vox wasn't happy with that.
Alastor was pissed.
How dare that piece of technologic crap try and get your attention. You were his, he had your affection first and it would also be your last. You would be with him forever and no one will take you.
So, to make sure this didn't happen again, the smiling demon sent back the Vox-tech worker back in a bloody box.
"Darling~", he hugged you from behind.
Both of you were in the back of your shop again, you were going over your stock.
"Come with me to this hotel I saw on the news. It looks quite entertaining!"
"I'd love to Alastor but you know I have to do my work.", you caressed the side of his face. "I'll let you know when I can visit as soon as I'm done with the set of rings."
"Rings?", he asked.
"Yes, there was this couple celebrating an anniversary and wanted their wedding rings engraved.", you smiled.
"Still together even after death? How romantic.", the deer commented. "I suppose I can wait for a bit longer. Though I do wish you could just drop everything."
"You know I can't.", you laughed and kissed his cheek.
Satisfied for now, the Radio Demon left for the hotel. Of course not everything was a smooth sailing but he managed to get everything settled for you to join him.
And when you did he was ecstatic.
"Darling! I see you finished those rings!", he twirled you in a hug.
"I missed you too love.", you hugged back.
The hazbin crew was shocked seeing him so affectionate with you.
"Who the fuck is this?"
"Oh how rude of me!", Alastor set you down but still held you close. "This is my significant other!"
"The fuck! Is this why you kept saying no to my offers!?", Angel crossed his arms.
"They are not the only reason! You are disgusting!", the deer demon grinned.
"What offers?", you questioned.
"This fellow kept offering to warm my bed dear."
"Oh?"
The room got darker and the walls started to distort.
"Hold on!", a blonde jumped in. "There is no killing guests in the hotel!"
"Charlie! Get away from them!", a white haired woman ran over with a spear.
You rolled your eyes and stopped.
"Sorry.", you smiled. "Didn't mean to scare you, I wouldn't dream of ruining your carpets!"
The two calmed down.
Alastor laughed and pulled you away from the group. "Don't you worry my darling, I made sure to threaten the spider properly. Let me show you around! I have a room set up to your liking."
"What? When did you-?"
"Let's go!", he teleported you with him using his shadows.
Everyone stood confused in the lobby.
"When the fuck did he start dating? How crazy is that demon to accept?"
Meanwhile you and Alastor were in your own little world. He showed you your hotel room and conjured up a door to connect your rooms together.
"If its too much I can get rid of the door.", he said and turned to look back at you. "What do you think?"
"Its very sweet of you.", you yanked him down by his bowtie. "Why didn't you tell me about the first time that spider made a comment like that?", you said in a commanding tone.
Your deer chuckled and kissed you.
"Because I knew that you would get jealous and I love to see you get like this.", he pulled you by the waist and into a dip. "We both know that I'd never accept something like that. Especially if its not you."
"I won't go there.", you moved your hands to hold his face. "I know you don't like things like that."
"I appreciate it my love.", he pulled you back up. "Now, what else would you like to do?"
"They said no killing, right?", you asked.
"Yes, no sinning here in the hotel my dearest.", he went to lie down on your bed.
"I can give him a good scare though.", you smiled and laughed darkly, plotting out a scheme.
Alastor sighed dreamily, kicking his feet back and forth as he watched you set up a plan.
Yes, he had fallen but he doesn't regret it.
Not one bit.
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From: Lovesick Alastor Headcanon
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
1K notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 5 months
Note
I don't know if this would be something you're interested in but I'd really like to see a protective!finnick. Doesn't have to be related to the games, like reader doesn't need to be a tribute or a rebel but she can be! Up to you, but it'd be interesting to see that side of him
thank you for your request lovely! I challenged myself to write something actually in universe for once, so I hope you enjoy it! (set in catching fire)
finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader cw for reader fainting from the heat
“Be careful.”
Finnick’s big hand on your back, his torso not far behind. He points to a thick tree root in your path. You step over it easily, exasperated. This is maybe the fourth time in the past ten minutes he’s said those same two words.
“I am,” you say simply. You are. If not for your sake then for Finnick’s. If you were to get so much as a cut on your leg he’d lose his mind. “S’hard when you’re standing so close, though.”
Finnick makes a face at you over your shoulder. “Sorry. You’re precious cargo, y’know?”
Your face warms, which is not ideal. You’re already well on your way to becoming a human furnace — the jungle you’re surrounded by is sticky and overly warm. You’re definitely overheating though you won’t tell Finnick that, he’ll only get worse. The water back at the beach is sure to cool you down — you’ll hop in as soon as you get back.
“You’re hopeless,” you tell Finnick in the meantime.
Finnick grins. “For you, yeah.”
You roll your eyes and march on ahead. Slowly the jungle gets thinner and thinner until you’re emerging onto the beach and your makeshift camp. The sun beats down on the landscape, glinting off the ripples in the water and rolling off the white sand in waves. You’re struck suddenly by how agonisingly hot you feel. It was sickeningly warm in the jungle but this is somehow much worse, the heat like a knife, sharp, cruel, and enough to make you dizzy.
“Ah, the lovebirds are back,” Johanna drawls when she spots you and Finnick emerging from the deep green trees. “What took you so long?”
Finnick shrugs. “Oh, you know. Sight-seeing. Did you— hey, what’s wrong?”
You’ve grabbed a tree for support as your vision swims suddenly. Your head pounds, as if your brain is trying to punch it’s way out of your skull. The dizziness you’d felt as soon as you stepped into the sun builds until you’re swaying on your feet.
You try desperately to keep your eyes open but the sun glares at you until you’re forced to squeeze them shut. “I don’t feel very well. I think I’m…”
It’s all you get out before you collapse in half like a rag doll. Finnick shouts your name and surges forward to grab you. He slides an arm under your back while the other grabs at your waist, tight as a vice.
“What the hell?” Johanna says loudly, standing up fast. “Is she okay?”
“Get me some water, please,” Finnick says, strained. You’re clearly not okay. His heart pounds in his throat and threatens to choke him. Johanna runs off and Finnick pulls you into the shade of the trees, carefully lowering you into the sand on your back.
He kneels next to you, panic rising like bile in his throat. Your eyes are closed, your head heavy in his hands.
“Y/N,” he says, an edge of panic to his voice. Please wake up, he thinks. “Y/N, honey.“
You’re completely unresponsive. Thinking the worst, Finnick presses his fingers to your throat. Thankfully, he feels a steady pulse, though it doesn’t do much to calm his spiking worry, not when you’re still unconscious.
“Can you hear me?” He tries gently tapping your cheek but to no avail. He curses. “Johanna!” He yells out, past being polite. “Water, now.”
“It’s coming!” Johanna yells back from the shoreline, clearly as agitated as he is.
Finnick grits his teeth and takes your face in his hands, trying his best to be gentle when he’s so panic stricken. “Hey. Baby, come on. Wake up.”
When you don’t respond, he carefully lowers your head and swiftly slides his hands to your shoulders. He’s careful but firm as he shakes you. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t ever want to be rough with you, but he’s glad he’s done it because it works. Just as Johanna arrives with a seashell full of water, Peeta and Katniss hot on her heels, your breath catches. Then your eyelids flutter, and then your lips part.
“Finnick?”
Finnick releases a shuddering breath, his heartbeat a pounding drum in his ears. The relief in hearing your voice is akin to a spear being pulled out of his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, hey, I’ve got you. You can hear me, right?”
“I can hear you,” you say. You try to turn your head, searching for him even in your disoriented state, but Finnick holds you in place.
“Don’t move, sweet thing,” he tells you. Unable to look away from you until he knows you’re absolutely alright, Finnick puts his hand out for the water wordlessly. Johanna hands it to him quick as a flash. “Can you open your eyes?”
You can, though it takes you a little while, blinking sluggishly in the harsh light. Finnick’s quick to shade your face with one hand. Your eyes appear, glazed but beautiful as always.
“Good girl,” Finnick tells you, hand on your cheek. He’s still buzzing — the heat of the sudden onslaught of panic hasn’t dissipated just yet. He carefully strokes your hair away from your sweaty neck with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna cool you down, okay? Can I unzip you?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Finnick unzips your suit halfway down your chest, taking care to angle his torso so the others don’t see anything they don’t have to. Slowly, he tips the water over your hot skin. It slides over the slopes of your shoulders and creeps down into your suit. It must feel good because you shudder and let out a small breath.
Finnick thumbs your collarbone, feeling overwhelmed with relief. His hands don’t leave you, afraid you’ll disappear again if he lets go. The panic ebbs slowly as he watches you come back to life, your eyes becoming clearer by the second.
“She’s okay?” Peeta speaks up after a long moment of silence.
Finnick nods. “She’s okay,” he assures. “It was the heat, I think.” He finally lets himself look away from you, if only to ask Peeta, “Could you get us some more water?”
“Yeah, of course.”
The other three all trail off, leaving you and Finnick on your own. You try to sit up as they leave but Finnick presses his hand to your chest, palm flat on your warm skin.
“Don’t,” he says. “You’ve gotta lay flat, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, looking bashful. “Sorry,” you say softly.
“Don’t be sorry. No more fainting though, okay?” He rubs your shoulder. “I know I’m really handsome, but you don’t have to be so drastic about it.”
You groan but it quickly morphs into a laugh. Finnick kisses your forehead and then holds your hand until Peeta returns with the water.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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hier--soir · 7 months
Text
a lover's pinch | four
joel miller x f!reader
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pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: after a conference in new york, you and j miller phd take things a step further. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, i think i describe reader as having sweaty palms about 1500 times so it deserves a warning, alcohol consumption, the plight of being a woman in academia, oral [f receiving], unprotected piv sex [IN A BED ??? GASP] for you filthy animals, prone bone, a little roughness and then not much at all, uhhh pet names during sex.... uhhmm intimacy errrrrr.... soft!joel... feelings... okay bye word count: 9.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: hey folks, thank you so much for all your patience as i took my sweet sweet time writing this. we get to know our prof a little better in this one so a fair amount of dialogue for you but yeah anyways i hope you enjoy it, and i'd love to hear what you think! [and if i Fell Off because of the depression, don't tell me lol] A WORD ABOUT THE TAG LIST: i will continue the taglist for this part and for part five, and after that i will rely solely on my notifications account @hier--soirupdates so pls follow that and turn on notifs to be told when i post writing x this is part four of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three.
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Saturday.
The conference centre is vast.
A large space that protects you from the threatening clouds that loom over New York City, and exposes you to countless dense conversations.
An NYU teacher’s assistant is glued to your hip, parading you through the centre with a wayward index finger that points out the bar, the room where the keynote speech will be given [large, with an imposing stage], and the room where you will give your presentation [less large, with a far less imposing stage].
Your presentation.  
You fight the urge to pull up the email for the thousandth time while she explains how there will be fifteen minutes to set up beforehand, and advises on when the doors will open for guests, and reminds you that you have a strict allotted time of 20-minutes, do you understand?
But the email is branded on the inside of your eyelids after this morning’s flight was spent reading and rereading and rereading the words. So you nod and smile and placate her on the tour of the centre, as you run through it in your mind.
We look forward to welcoming you to NYU’s Annual Classics and Ancient History Conference. Our team was intrigued by the presentation devised around your translation study in Athens…
“Did you hear me?”
You wish she wasn’t dressed so casually.
Loose balls of lint are collected on the back of her cardigan like trinkets, weighty and threatening to fall off in a sort of bread crumb trail behind her every movement. It makes your dress feel all the more serious, all the more formal. Navy blue and a little tight, with sleeves that slant across the middle of your bicep and a hem that cuts modestly across your lower thigh. Professional, smart, sexy, but not too sexy. You and Nora spent two hours at the mall picking it out last weekend. And you can see people in suits, in blazers, in dresses, everywhere you turn, but your eyes keep returning to the TA’s cardigan. Little pills, sad morsels of broken fabric.
She says your name sharply.
“Yes,” you snap to attention, and clock her poor attempt not to roll her eyes. “You were saying?”
“It’s an open bar,” she continues from a few steps ahead, slowly back away while raising her voice to be heard over the countless others sprouting across the room. “And food is served after the Keynote.”
Finally free of her and her cardigan, you scale the edge of the hall, curious eyes glancing across faces familiar and not. You notice some other postgrads from UNE, and some professors from your alma mater. But it isn’t until three hours into the conference that you notice him.
You’re in a painfully long conversation with Professor Carmichael, an ancient history department head from Boston, when you notice them.
“Well you see,” he’s saying, slowly. “The First Roman Triumvirate was very unique. Surely you agree with me there, my dear?”
“Of course,” you nod amiably. A waiter floats past you holding a tray of glasses. You grasp one with a grateful smile, and turn back to face him with a sip of cold white wine moving down your throat. “The Big Three, it’s all very interesting. Although I must say, I am personally more interested in the second triumvirat—”
“Oh they all say that,” he waves his hand. “Everyone is so taken by Antony and Octavian that they forget about Crassus! So tragic.”
“A very tragic death,” you offer an exaggerated frown. “I agree.”
Carmichael hums, eyes narrowing as if you’ve said something wrong. Sipping your wine, your eyes float over his shoulder, determinedly trying to spot any sign of food, gaze spilling across countless faces and tables and waiters and professors until one set of people makes you pause.  Wild dark hair atop a floral dress floats in your vision, her pale hand hovering over the sleeve of a tall man in a suit. You watch the backs of their heads; the way the woman tilts her chin upward to speak to the man and laughs at what he says in return. That laugh. You frown, and feel yourself take a step forward, a step in their direction.
“Is something the matter?” Carmichael asks and you halt, flash him a sweet smile and shake your head.
“No,” you rush, practically tasting the opportunity to escape the conversation. “I’m sorry, Professor, I thought I saw someone waving me over. If you don’t min—”
“Always so many people to talk to at these things,” he says in a sing-song tone of voice, smiling obliviously. “All in due course, dear. You’ll find them later I’m sure.”
It’s not until fifteen minutes later that the tap comes on your shoulder. You turn and feel relief wash over you as you come face to face with Rachel, with her tangle of curls and bright orange dress. But then a jolt shudders through your frame, for you spot the man accompanying her; the man you watched her traipse around the room with, the man in the sleek black suit—Joel, hovering a step behind her.
“Rachel,” you blink. “Joel. Hi—”
“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Rachel says. Her eyes are wide, lips pulled back into a crooked grin that immediately sets you at ease. Joel, on the other hand, looks uncomfortable to say the least. You watch him tuck his hands in his pockets and then take them out again quickly, lips pursed together in a tight line as he glances between you and Professor Carmichael.
“Joel,” she grips the sleeve of his blazer and tugs him forward to stand beside her. You watch where her hand grazes him - the ease with which she jostles him around. “Did you know?”
“No.” He stares for a moment, lips parted and eyes darting across your face, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t know.”
“I’m giving a presentation,” you explain quickly, eyes darting between the two of them, fingers tightening around your glass every time your eyes settle on him. He trimmed his beard again; the hairs are shorter, neater—almost too short and too neat for your liking. His shirt is pressed and crisp, shock white beneath the midnight black of his jacket. He’s wearing different glasses. Tortoise shell glasses. Someone clears their throat to your right, snapping you out of your reverie. You apologise quickly, “This is Professor Carmichael.”
“Of course,” Joel nods, stepping forward to grip the older man’s hand. “Good to see you again, Professor.”
“And you, Professor Miller,” Carmichael chuckles, patting a shaky hand against Joel’s shoulder. “When was the last time we crossed paths? A year ago?”
“Must’ve been a year,” Joel smiles easily. His eyes slip to look at you every few seconds. “The conference in Ottawa.”
“The conference in Ottawa!” Carmichael cheers, nodding away. A weight sinks in your stomach like a cinder block as you watch the Professor gear up to wrangle Joel and Rachel into another conversation about Crassus’ untimely demise. But then Rachel slips away, called out to by someone across the room. And before Carmichael can open his mouth, Joel is speaking again, that honeyed drawl like music to your ears.
“Excuse me, Professor Carmichael,” he smiles again. Two of his fingers grip your elbow, tugging you a step backward. “Do you mind if I steal my star student for a few moments?”
Joel tilts your body to the left, and then the two of you are veering off into the crowd, wandering through throngs of people, his warm fingers pressed against the soft flesh above your elbow.
“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say under your breath, glancing around warily, trying to spy any curious eyes that might notice the two of you.   
“Could say the same thing,” he murmurs, dragging you to a stop at the edge of the hall with his eyebrows raised. “When’s your talk?”
“At one. Overlaps with the Keynote, which I’m a little relieved about,” you smile, a pinched, tense thing. “Hopefully everyone will go to that, and I’ll have a smaller crowd.”
Joel’s eyebrows raise. You think you notice his shoulders stiffen. “S’that right?”
A persistent pang of hunger stabs through your stomach, you rub a hand over the front of your dress and nod. Curious brown eyes follow the movement.
“Here,” Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. His fingers graze your skin as he tucks the shiny rectangle of foil into your palm. “They don’t put out any food until after the Keynote.”
It’s a granola bar. Peanut butter and banana. You stare at it for a moment, almost dumbfounded by the kindness of the gesture. By how attentive he is; how much he notices without you even having to speak.
“Thanks,” you say. Nestle it into your purse and give him an appreciative smile.
“Sure,” he nods jerkily. Adjusts the glasses on his nose. “I’m disappointed to miss it.”
“Oh?” you blink. Your eyes focus then, flitting downward to focus on the badge hanging from his lanyard.
Joel Miller, Ph.D.
University of New England.
Keynote Speaker.
“Oh, shit.”
“Mhm,” Joel squints at you. “Sorry if I don’t share the sentiment that everyone comes to watch me instead of you.”   
“Why didn’t you…” you gape. “You didn’t say you were giving a talk?” 
“You didn’t ask.”
“The Keynote speech is a big deal,” you say, as if he wouldn’t know.
“I was their third choice,” he shrugs you off with practiced ease. “First two weren’t interested.”
“Third time lucky then,” you smile, and he chuckles. Someone calls Joel’s name then, and you both spin to see Rachel across the room with a group of people, all eagerly waving him over. Something nasty curls in your chest – something bitter and unwarranted and cruel. You smother it with a mouthful of wine and a soft smile of farewell to him as he turns and walks in her direction.
A hand clasps down on your shoulder and you flinch, turning to see Professor Carmichael beaming.
“Where were we then, my dear?”
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You eat Joel’s granola bar at the back of the hall five minutes before your talk and walk onstage with the taste of peanut and banana on your lips, brushing crumbs of dried oats off your fingers.
Fifteen people attend, spotted miscellaneously across the amassed rows of chairs. The slide clicker is damp in your palm, and your thumb hovers trembling over the button, awaiting each moment you need to press down.
“Working alongside some fantastic translators,” you tell them. “We focused on studying the disparities between how Greek texts are translated by men and women. Particularly, we aimed to delve into the way emotive language has been downgraded or elevated depending on the lens through which a text is being viewed.”
Professor Carmichael sits in the front row, those sun-spot covered hands clasped in his lap, offering an encouraging smile as you shift upon the stage. Rachel is a few rows back, and she nods intently whenever you glance in her direction.
“One of our main points of focus,” you continue. “Was to understand points of difficulty in translating while accounting for cultural nuances, and how the context of differing authors can impact upon this. In my next slide—”
It’s as you turn to glance at the display that you notice them for the first time. Three rows from the front, where a group of men sit. Two of them young, maybe around your age. You change your slide and watch them whisper in each other’s ears. One of them points at you. Or not you, rather—your legs.
And you yearn for it to be meaningless. A meaningless gesture between colleagues. Meaningless legs, meaningless dress, meaningless curves and slopes and dips and spins. But as you continue, you know it can’t be. The way they talk through your presentation, as if they aren’t bothered to be heard. The way they leer at you over Carmichael’s shoulder, grinning to each other. Your words in one ear and out the other—simply a talking point for them, a blue dress, something to stare at. Your dress feels hot, tight, and your chest feels hotter, tighter under the lights as those eyes glaze over you. You glance back towards Rachel. She gives you a thumbs up that doesn’t serve to cool your nerves.
“When translating word for word in our field, it’s uncommon,” you stutter to a stop, eyes flashing warily. “Sorry, it is not uncommon to find that narratological creativity dwindles.”
You hear a chuckle to your right and swallow down the urge to shoot daggers in the direction of the sound. “Translators struggle to maintain the in-depth imaginative expression that the original Greek text inspires. But through my discussions with Professor Samaras, we found that…”
It’s in the final minutes that you notice him. Tucked away in a back row of the room, arms folded across his chest. You pause for a moment, words caught in your throat. But Joel merely gives you a short nod. The faintest hint of a smile, of the corner of his eyes slanting upward, and it’s as if a cool breeze washes over you. Hands steady, knees lock, and you push through. You don’t look at any of their faces until it’s over.
And when it is, and scattered applause decorates the air, you can’t help but cast a smile in Joel’s direction. A smile that slips and wavers when you spot the broad expanse of his back, that sharp black blazer, as he slips out the doors without wasting a second.
The rest of your audience follows suit, a slim line that wanders out the doors without a second glance—spare Carmichael, who tells you he was quite taken with how you presented yourself, my dear.
You hear your own name and turn to see Rachel approaching, a burst of floral frock and swinging earrings. Her smile is wide and crooked, and you can’t help but smile back.
“That was wonderful,” she cheers, squeezing your shoulder. “I was so taken by how you spoke about the importance of linguistic quality assurance when translating emotive texts. Brilliant!”
Your face warms. “Thank you,” you shake your head quickly. “It was… thank you. That’s very kind.”
You glance over her shoulder, wondering if he’ll reappear – perhaps share her sentiments, maybe shower you with praise. He doesn’t.
She catches you looking. “Joel was in a rush,” she offers easily. “Lots of people wanting to talk to the man of the evening.”
“Of course,” you swallow thickly. Another smile.
Rachel stares at you curiously. “He’s very impressed by you, you know.” Her voice is warm, gentle—soft spoken like a mother who can sense the slightest flash of insecurity. You cringe immediately, feel your arms cross protectively across your chest. Don’t give the game away now. “Honestly, I think he read your comparative paper on the katabasis three times. Practically raved about it when I asked what it was.”
“Oh,” you blink, shifting uneasily under her gaze. “That’s… wow, I’m flattered.”
“He sees a lot of potential in you,” she says.
“Right,” you nod. “Well, he’s a grea—you’re both great teachers. I’m very lucky to be learning from the two of you.”
She doesn’t speak for a moment, and you fear your face grows warmer in the silence. Can feel the slick on your palms returning, the flash of heat in your chest, the longer you sit in it. You make a quick and tumbling excuse to flee the scene, spitting a mess of thank you so much and just need some fresh air, before you’re stumbling out of the hall and wandering outside on newborn deer legs. You snag a flute of something bubbly off the bar on your way, and find yourself on a secluded bench in the breezeway behind the conference centre.
You sit there alone and watch the grass, the way the light from inside shines out across the green. Feel the chill of the wind slip past you, rustling your hair and raising goosebumps on your bare legs. Sip dry Cava and contemplate how many more of these things you can feasibly imagine attending in your career. There’s a single text from Nora on your phone, asking how the presentation went. You tuck it into your purse, leaving the message unanswered.
By the time you hear the door hinges creak, the glass is near empty. You spy a shadowy form snaking its way down the path, headed in your direction.
“Mr Keynote Speaker,” you hum. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Funny,” Joel mutters dryly, knees cracking as he falls onto the bench beside you. A heavy sigh slips from between his lips, fingers lacing together in his lap as he gazes across the breezeway. You down the last of your drink and place it on the concrete by your feet. “Needed some god damn peace and quiet. All that chit chat drives me insane.”
You murmur in agreement and stare at the side of his face – the neatened beard, the thick frame of his glasses. Purposeful or not, the side of his body is pressed against yours. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder – he’s sat directly in the centre of the bench. Heat radiates off his body and it’s almost too warm, and yet you find yourself relaxing against him.
“First time at one of these?” Joel asks gruffly. He’s still not looking at you, his eyes trained on a pigeon pecking at a discarded foil wrapper on the grass.
“Is it that obvious?” you grimace.
“Only because I’ve been to twenty of the damn things,” he says. “Y’learn how to smell the nervous energy comin’ off the first timers.”
“Twenty?” you mutter. Feel your stomach curl and twist at the idea of doing this day nineteen more times.
“Somethin’ like that.” Joel glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Went to a lot during my second degree. Had to get good at talkin’, fast.”
“Ahh,” you say. “So, you weren’t always such a sweet talker then?”
He lets out a low chuckle, as if amused by the thought. “Sweet talker, huh? That what I am?”
You shrug, suddenly emboldened by him following you outside, by how close he is, by how open he seems.
“I suppose,” you say slowly.
“And what gave you that idea?”
“You here alone?” you offer a poor imitation of him, voice low and breathy with your awful take on a Southern twang. “Meet me in the bathroom.” You wink, quietly delighted by the way his lips have tightened into a flat line.
“Funny,” he says again, entirely unamused now.
Something warm shifts in your lower stomach. Something wet—a vivid memory of him on the ground behind you in the bathroom of a bar, of hands spreading you open, of his tongue pressing inside you, of The Eagles playing faintly in the background.
“You do that kind of thing often?” you ask.  
“Do what?”
“Approach young women at bars,” you wiggle your eyebrows, smirking. “Rob them of their virtue in the bathroom and then hope you never see them again.”
“You? Virtuous?” Joel rolls his eyes. You can see the corner of his lip curling upward. “Must be gettin’ yourself confused with somebody else.”  
“Maybe,” you smile.
“Sometimes,” he casts you a look, after a moment. “Not… often. And not young.”
“Younger,” you counter quickly.
“I didn’t expect you to be…” he trails off and shakes his head. “It’s not a thing I do, alright?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s not.”
“You don’t date then?”
He tilts his head at you curiously, eyes planted firmly on your face now. “Not for a long time.”
“Why not?”
“Been busy,” he grunts, clearly growing impatient by the line of questioning.  “Spent a lot of time studying. Working.”
“Where did you study?” you press.
“This twenty fuckin’ questions?” he snaps, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Came out here for—”
“You came out here,” you interrupt. “Because I came out here.”
He glowers at you, but doesn’t try to deny it.
“Night classes at Texas A&M for my undergrad,” he grits out. You smile sickly sweet, pleased. “Did my postgrads part time at UT Austin,” Joel says.
Your eyebrows kick up again, the teasing pretence all but forgotten. “Sounds… unconventional?” you offer softly.
“That’s one word for it,” he agrees vaguely. “Spent the better half of a decade at school just to end up teaching at one. Ain’t that somethin’.”
“And before that?” you press.  
“Before that,” he continues with a wry grin, one full of distaste and frustration and resentment. “Was a contractor for a long time. Houses, buildings.” He rests a hand against his shoulder, fingers pressing against the muscle there, as if working out a decade old knot.
And for a moment you can see it. Can almost taste it. Collared shirts and glasses replaced with hard hats and hammers and dirt in the lines of his palms. Joel carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder, wearing a toolbelt. Joel on his knees, sweat shining on his forehead while he wields an electric drill.
Your dress feels too tight suddenly. Too warm.
“A contractor,” you say distractedly, and hope he doesn’t notice how your thighs press together.
“Mhm,” Joel nods. “With my brother.”
“You have a brother?”
He ignores that. “Where did you study?”
“San Diego State,” you flash him a grin. “Go Aztecs.”
“Good school,” he hums. “You’re a long way from California.”
Only a little further than Texas, you think.
“You did good up there,” Joel adds.  
Your smile dips and wanes into a scowl, uninterested in the change of subject.
“What?”
“It was…” you shake your head slowly, face warming as you glance down to your lap.
“What?”
“It just wasn’t what I expected.” You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your dress. “That’s all.”
“And what did you expect?”
“To be listened to,” you grunt. “Not gawked at by some ancient jerkoffs that were only there to stare at my ass when I turned to change a slide.”
Joel nods, quiet.
“I wanted it to matter,” you mutter. “Wanted to… fuck, I wanted to impress them.”
“I was impressed.”
“Oh yeah?” you snort, finally looking up. “You hightailed it out of there pretty quickly.”
Joel shakes his head and stares back at you, gaze heavy. His hands tighten into fists against his thighs, knuckles lightening to white as he squeezes. You shuffle on the seat—ignore the flare of heat that erupts where your shoulder nudges firmer against his. 
“I guess you could say,” he speaks slowly. “I’m tryin’ to keep my distance.”
You arch an eyebrow and attempt to swallow the laugh bubbling up your throat.
“Well, you’re doing a great job,” you smirk.
Joel laughs and your smile falters, mouth going slack at the sound. How rare it is, and how much rarer to have it all to yourself like this. For all of his sharp angles, his sweet talking, his harsh words, and harsher touch—that laugh is the cruellest part.  
He jostles his shoulder against yours a little. An acknowledgement; perhaps a glimpse inside. Something that says, I know, I see it, I feel it, I can’t stop either.
“You make it hard,” he says then, and his voice is soft—almost a whisper.
“How’s that?” You match his tone, as if you’re two little kids who’ve snuck outside to share secrets where no one else can hear them.
“You bein’ here,” he murmurs, eyes searching. “Startin’ to feel like you’re everywhere I turn.”
A breeze swims past and you shiver, locks of hair floating in a mess around your face until you pat them down. Joel moves almost imperceptibly, curling his side tighter against yours to shield you from the onslaught.
“I know the feeling,” you admit.
The muscle in his jaw ticks and he clears his throat, looking out across the green again. For a moment the pair of you sit in silence. Not as professor and student, but simply a man and a woman on a bench. Breathing the same air, soaking in a shared silence that only the two of you could understand. And there are so many more questions you want to ask him, so much more you feel compelled to know, but instead you settle for this—sitting on a bench together, shoulders and thighs and chests pressed side to side, two frames moulded around the welcoming shape of one another. For now.
“It gets easier,” Joel says then, jaw tense as he spares a glance back in your direction. “This stuff, these people, all the talkin’.”
You acknowledge him with a small smile, just the slightest twitch of your lip. Don’t bother saying, maybe for you. Maybe for a man.
“You know,” you suck in a breath and give him a lazy smile instead. “I think this might be the longest conversation we’ve had without ripping each other’s clothes off.”
“Mm.” He leans his head back to rest on the wall, eyes focusing up towards the sky.
“I like it,” you say quietly. Hear how vulnerability chimes in your voice – a wobble that begs to be ignored and understood all at once. “It’s nice… talking like this.”
Joel’s head tilts towards you, dark eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see that wariness in his eyes. The same wariness that poured out in flecks of brown and amber and gold in the light of your bedroom a week ago, when he told you he was fifty. A hesitant curiosity, an incessant suspicion, a bark of disbelief. You feel the desire to pluck the feeling out of him and swallow it whole. To lock it safely inside yourself and make it so he never has to feel it again.
So you lean in a press your lips against his. Painfully soft, just a whisper of two mouths slotting together. Chapped and dry from the wind, he tastes like bitter sparkling wine. You sigh into him, uncaring. Hook your ankle around his, place your hand on his thigh, and sink closer, deeper.
He pulls back an inch, mouth still hovering over yours, the tip of his nose pressed into your cheek.
“Shouldn’t do this here,” he warns quietly, eyes still closed. His breath is hot against your face, and you inhale the taste of mint and Cava and Joel.
“I know.” You grip the lapel of his blazer and kiss him again. Firmer this time, grazing your tongue along the seam of his lips until he welcomes you inside to taste behind his teeth. The frame of his glasses presses into your nose, your cheeks, and you smile into his mouth. Rough palms and lazy fingertips graze the skin of your bicep, your neck, until they find a home at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses against the hinge of your jaw, hot wet tongue working your mouth open until you’re whining, teeth nipping at his bottom lip and fingernails digging into the meat of his thigh.
Only when you move to press a hand beneath the collar of his shirt does Joel pull back again, this time to stand and take a step away from the bench. A tinge of scarlet creeps its way from the hollow of his throat to the apple of his cheeks. He clears his throat and glances over his shoulder, towards the door. When he looks back, there’s something new there. Some dangerous that flashes in his eyes and lingers when his gaze dances down the curve of your body against the seat.
“Where are you staying?” you ask, breathless.
For a minute he doesn’t answer. Simply stares, contemplating, broad chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The lenses of his glasses are fogged, and you watch them slowly clear.  
Then— “The Pendry.”
Joel reaches into his pocket and retrieves something small and laminated. You take it from his outstretched palm carefully. “Fifth floor.”
You stare at it for a moment. Turn it over in your palm once, twice. Read the room number printed on the key card before tucking it safely into your purse. When you look up again, Joel is already walking back inside.
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It’s nearing midnight by the time you arrive at the Pendry – a high rise in Manhattan West, the kind with a fancy lobby and a doorman in a neat black suit. The polar opposite of the hotel where your suitcase lies unopened across the city. You feel out of place in an instant, but you’re still in your dress, and the staff don’t bat an eye at your presence. The key card he gave you is hot where your fingers curl around it, plastic damp and foggy with the sweat from your palms. By the time you reach his door you have to wipe it on your dress before the sensor will recognise it.
A hollow beep echoes through the hall, and his door presses open with a soft hiss.
The room is enveloped in darkness. Moonlight shines in through a slim gap in the curtains, highlighting vague edges of the space. A desk against the wall, a large bed on the left of the room. For a moment you consider that he isn’t here—that he got caught up at the conference, sweet talking into the midnight hour with other professors and alums. You can hear sounds from the street, music and car horns blaring, even from the fifth floor. But nothing else. No Joel.
Tentatively, you take a step inside the room. And then another. Kick your heels off and feel rough carpet hairs sift between your toes. Holding your hands out into the darkness, fingertips ghosting the wall for support, you venture further into the room, only pausing when your shin thumps against the corner of something sharp and sturdy.
You spit a surprised curse and stumble into the wall, hands falling to grip your leg where it throbs and smarts.
“Jesus fuck,” you hiss, smoothing your fingers against the already forming lump.
A lamp flicks on, and the room lurches into view, tinged in a soft yellow light. You jump, eyes squinting against the sudden brightness. Bed sheets rumple and shift, and Joel is frowning at you from his place amongst the pillows, a hand raising to drowsily scratch his chin.  
“The hell are you doin’?” he rasps.
Heat flares in your face as you straighten up, mirroring his frown. He moves slow, a sluggish stretch out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and he looks almost concerned. It gives you pause for a moment, eyes unsure of where to settle, as you note just how much of his body you’ve never seen before. The soft muscles in his legs, the dark hair over tan skin. You can see the slight round of his stomach through the thin fabric of the shirt.
“Were you asleep?” you accuse.
“Thought you weren’t coming,” Joel mutters, and the sound is a fractured medley of words and yawns. You feel a dull pang of disappointment in your chest as you watch him rub sleep from the corner of his left eye.
“Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”
He doesn’t respond.
“You gave me a key.”   
“I know,” he sighs.
“Of course I was going to come.”
He nods. Yawns again, hand snaking upward to cover his open mouth.
You turn your back on him slowly. Take a glass from the little kitchenette and let the faucet run a cool burst of water into it. Little specks of water splash up, dotting against your hand. Your feet ache from wearing those damn heels all day, but you wilfully ignore the pain, gulping down half the glass while staring at your reflection in the splashback. Blue dress, hair tucked behind your ears, charcoal smudged around the curve of your eyes.
Joel’s fingers wind around yours, peeling the glass from your clutch so he can steal the final few sips. He discards it on the counter and leans against it. You try to make out his expression in the shadowy light, wiping your water-dotted arm against your side.
“S’a good dress.” He looks more alert suddenly, eyes sharp and focused, wide shoulders squared.
“Yeah?”
“Mm.”
“Didn’t say anything about it earlier.”
“Was tryin’ not to think about it,” he says plainly. “And how badly I wanted to take it off.”
Your hand stills. That misplaced disappointment slips out of the room, an unwelcome third party, and you grin at him. A sleazy, sleepy smile, and walk backwards in the direction of the bed without taking your eyes off of him.
“So take it off,” you challenge.
Your heartbeat is a steady thrum against your breastbone as he crosses the room. Badoom, badoom, no less than three strides and he’s there, gripping your waist to turn you so his chest is against your back.
Your zip is a low whir in the air, spinning downward slowly, slowly, from the nape of your neck to the sloping base of your spine. Deft hands trace skin, grazing every mark, every freckle as they are revealed to him, until the material of your dress is a gaping smile across your back. You shiver as the air rushes to meet your bare flesh, and then careful—cautious—you feel a pair of lips press against the top of your spine, soft pink against steely vertebrae. You say his name, low and surprised, and he doesn’t say anything. Those hands push the dress down your arms, and you watch it tremble and fall, a mess of blue at your feet.
You can hear his breathing; the way it stutters and jumps as he traces the clasp of your bra, the arch of your spine beneath it.
“Take it off,” you say again, and feel a sharp scratch of desperation that perhaps this time he won’t deny you this. This something that you’ve not experienced even once, and yet you find yourself missing.
The idea of his skin against yours is something prophetic, something inevitable, something divine—something determined far before the two of you met in that bar. It’s out of your control or his, irrevocable—a beast bred from desire that claws and snaps at the bars of its cage, calling you kicking and screaming into each other’s arms.
His fingers pluck at the clasp, and you smile. Sigh in relief as your bra hits the floor and the weight of your breasts are borne to the increasingly warm air. Joel is still behind you, still not seeing you. But broad palms splay across your back, massaging and flexing into your skin as they roam your sides, your stomach, up your front to cup your breasts. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as he squeezes softly, palms warm and solid against the stiff peaks of your nipples.
“Fuck.” Joel’s nose buries itself in your hair, his forehead against the back of your head. Your legs shake, and you lean back into his chest, your body a soft and tremulous thing that would surely float away if he weren’t here to hold you up.  
His hands are on your breasts, sweet and tender and finally, and you wonder how long this wanting will feel like burning. Like nicks of flame that gloss over you and spit embers at anyone who dares to get too close—at him, sparking and sputtering as they collide in a spitfire symphony. This man who lives set ablaze in his own right. This man who welcomes your flame every time—swallows it whole, and lays kisses against the back of your neck with lips still warm.
Calloused fingers roll and circle your nipples, playing gently, listening for every gasp, every sigh, before diligently repeating whatever it was that called the sound forward. Your underwear is all but ruined, already damp and clinging to the slick skin between your thighs. And you can feel him against your lower back, albeit unmoving—not grinding against you, not pushing you down onto the bed, but waiting – for what, you can’t be sure.
You turn around faster than he can stop you. Hook fingers into the band of your panties and drag them down in a swift movement before straightening, holding his gaze all the while. And Joel—
He looks in pain. Dark eyes lock onto on your face and don’t stray. Don’t dip downward, don’t glance around the room. His hands hang by his sides, palms facing upward in a dejected fashion, jaw slack as he just—waits.
“Why won’t you look at me?” you whisper.
“You don’t….” he shakes his head. “If I look, I won’t be able to forget. And I—I can’t—”
There’s a flash of that memory again. Sweating in the dark bathroom of a bar in Portland. Joel wiping stained lipstick from your chin. The words I’m gonna remember this dripping from his swollen lips.
You take a step forward. Feel your nipples graze the soft material of his shirt. “And what if I don’t want you to forget?”
He says your name quietly, shoulders tense. But when you grip the hem of his shirt, he doesn’t stop you. Rather, he lifts his arms and lets you drag the fabric over his head. You marvel at the bare skin, eyes dancing across jutting collarbones and the soft swell of his stomach. Watch the way his chest rises and falls as stilted breaths flurry inside him before spilling into the air between you. Admire the trail of dark hair that rests between his bellybutton and the soft band of his underwear. His eyes don’t leave your face as you push the boxers down his legs.
“So handsome,” you say and Joel exhales, hands hovering a hairsbreadth from your waist. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between you. This moment of more. To be with him like this feels like more. To be naked feels like more.
You grip his hand and raise it to your breast again. Squeeze your fingers over his. His thumb flicks across your nipple and you gasp. His eyes darken, nostrils flaring as he fights to restrain himself.  
“Joel,” you whisper. “Look at me.”
Finally, he does. Those brown eyes flickering downward to rake in the sight of your body.
He’s on you in a second, mouth slanting desperately against yours while his hands drift aimlessly across skin, untethered in their access. Fingers pinching and grabbing and squeezing, teeth searing at your lips, and you gasp as his cock presses against your stomach. The long, thick weight of him, drooling and needy. Your fingers slip around him, rub softly over the underside of his head, the vein on the underside of him. Joel grips your wrist and pushes you backward a step, his lips leaving yours with a wet smack.
“Sit on the bed,” he orders firmly.
You wander backward, stumbling onto the edge of the bed when your calves collide with the heavy wooden base. He watches you, hand drifting to wrap around the base of his cock. He strokes himself gently, black eyes tracing vigilantly over every inch of your body. And you expect him to push you down, to crawl on top of you. Instead, you watch with bated breath as Joel drops to his knees in front of you. His knees crack as they bend but he ignores it, nudging your thighs apart so his broad frame can fit between them. Hooded eyes gaze between your thighs, roaming across all of the bare skin on show. Slowly, he lifts a hand and rests it gently on your mound. Calloused fingers stroke over the dark hair there, stroking through the short curls. You sigh and cant your hips up, but Joel only grunts, his free hand squeezing your thigh to hold you against the mattress.
Before you can process it, he’s leaning forward, nose nestling in your hair as his warm tongue parts your folds. You groan in unison, your fingers carding through his curls to hold him against you. He murmurs something that you don’t quite catch over the roaring in your ears, but you don’t care. Too caught up in a smooth slide of his mouth slotting against you. The flat of his tongue glides up and down your sex, smearing a mess of slick and saliva in his wake. You gasp as it flicks sharply across your clit, your jaw tensing at the harsh sensation. Joel notices—pulls back.
“Tell me,” he urges.    
“Slower,” you say quickly, voice feeble and desperate.
“Slower,” Joel repeats with a nod, and he massages your thighs as he licks into you, fingernails scraping your skin as his grip tightens and loosens and tightens and loosens. He traces slow circles around your clit with the flat of his tongue that have you gasping and bucking against his face. And when his tongue presses inside of you, you moan, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging.
“Fuck,” he growls into you, and he likes that. You do it again and his eyes flick open, pupils blown, gaze darting wildly across your stomach, your arms, your breasts, your face – watching, admiring, taking in every detail of the offering that you’ve laid so generously at his altar. The tip of a finger curls inside you and he grins when your thighs tense around him. He rears his head back to watch how you welcome him inside, eyes locked on the way your weeping cunt clenches and drips around one of his fingers, and then another.
“Yeah,” you sigh, nose scrunching at the slight stretch. “Yeah, like that, fuck.” 
“Look at you,” he mutters. “Christ.” And then the cut of his wet red mouth is back on you, lips parting to suck against your clit until you’re crying out, voice a hoarse shout as you speed rapidly towards your end.
“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. One of your legs kicks out straight and his hand drops from your thigh, one set of fingers working you open while the other comes up to part your lips, giving himself more access. As he lathes wet kisses against you, the coarse hairs of his beard scraping your inner thighs, you can feel it. That liquid heat that coils and stirs in the base of your stomach.
“Joel, I—ohh—I think I’m gonna come,” you whimper, hand shooting out to grip his shoulder. Your nails dig into the tense muscle there, using the leverage to rut your hips against his face.
He groans into your sex, fingers moving faster, unforgiving against that spongy spot deep inside that sets you alight. His teeth graze against your clit, the lightest brush, and your stomach is tensing, every muscle in your body locking up.
“Give it t’me,” he says gruffly. “That’s it, come on, baby.”
A choked gasp falls from your lips and then you’re coming, twitching against his face, pussy bearing down on thick fingers that stoke you through the high. Your hand leaves his shoulder to grip the back of his neck, holding his face against where you’re aching for him still. Joel moans, a low sound from deep in his chest, dragging his fingers away so he can drink down every heady drop of your orgasm.
Baby.
The word rings in your head, bouncing inside your skull, a fierce ricochet. Baby.
Trembling fingers feather across the cowlick at the crown of his head, twisting and petting soft wayward curls as his mouth pulls back, a wet drag across the skin of your hip. You catch a glimpse of his cock, heavy and throbbing between his thighs.
Joel’s teeth nip at the sensitive skin of your thigh, a sharp pinch that makes you flinch. Tired muscles tensing, face twisting up as he sucks and licks, hot tongue soothing over the stinging red mark. He breathes your name, mouthing the sound into your flesh once, twice.
“I’ve been tryna remember this,” he murmurs. “Only ever had it for a second.”
You whimper as he licks into you again, slowly. And you’re so sensitive, and maybe—maybe—it’s too much, too soon, but he doesn’t care. He grips your calf and tucks it over his shoulder. Holds it there in a vice grip.
“Wasn’t enough,” he says. Dark eyes look up and you’re rapt in them—bound and boneless simply from having those eyes on you you you nothing but you all he sees is you and he loves it, you can tell. Thrives on the way you melt beneath his rough fingertips, the wet drag of his tongue. “Remember that first day in my office?
Remember, remember, remember, how could you forget? I’m gonna remember this this this.
“Yes.” Your leg trembles against the side of face, the coarse hairs of his beard scratching your skin. The tip of his tongue lathes slow circles around your clit. A cruel, leisurely slip of flesh on flesh that has you gasping and twitching beneath his hands.
“I wanted this that day,” Joel rasps. “Needed it. But you were gone so soon, ‘n’ I couldn’t help myself.”
“What—oh fuck—” He flicks his tongue faster, hot swipes from side to side that have your thigh clamping down against the muscles in his neck. Your mind is a blur, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of his words.
“Fucked my fist the second you left,” he growls. “My fingers in my mouth, the taste of you—Christ, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”
“Joel,” you gasp, impatient. “I—get up here. Please, just—”
Strong hands push you up, push you back, further onto the bed until your head hits the pillows. His hair is a wild fray around his head, knotted and mussed from your fingers raking through it.
“I don’t have anything,” he says.
“I don’t care,” you say.
His knees press onto the mattress on either side of you and his eyes glance down your chest before he grips your waist and he’s turning you. Your stomach meets the sheets and you move to arch your back, to tilt your hips up towards him, but a firm hand rests on the small of your back, and keeps you down.
“Like this,” you hear him say. “Trust me.”
His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel him there, knuckles brushing the flesh of your ass, spreading you apart so his cock can press inside. The pillow swallows your wet gasp, and your eyes pinch shut against the stretch as he sinks deeper and deeper. Every delicious inch splits you open wider, further, carving out that space that’s just for him, and it’s more. Your vision blurs and you clutch at the sheets, fingers tangling in linen as Joel’s breathy groans fill the air.
“God,” he grunts. “Always so fuckin’—tight.”
You cry out as he begins to move, pressing you further into the mattress. The stretch of him is so broad—so deep—it has hot tears pricking in your eyes. Your legs are straight, almost clamped together, leaving the smallest gap for him to break through. His chest melts against your back, sweet sweat sliding from skin to skin. And his stomach is soft against the base of your spine, but his teeth are sharp where they nip and smart against the skin of your shoulder, your neck. He sets a pace that has you biting down into the pillow to muffle your groans. It’s almost overbearing how good it feels, how he surrounds you. Flat against the mattress, there’s nowhere to hide from the pleasure, no way to twist or curl your body away from how good it feels. A choked moan is muffled by the pillow.
And then his fingers are in your hair, dragging your head up.
“What are you fuckin’ doin’?” he grunts. You gasp, eyebrows furrowed and mouth ajar as you take take take. He pulls your hair harder when you don’t respond, presses his chin against your shoulder, lips curling against the skin of your neck as he speaks. “Don’t do that, not here. No more hidin’, I wanna fuckin’ hear it.”
He grips your hips and drags you upward so you’re on your knees, bracing against your forearms, and then his hand snakes around the front of your body, fingers dragging between your thighs as he begins moving again.
“Oh fuck,” your eyes widen in surprise, jaw hanging slack as he rolls his finger in expert circles over your clit. “Fuck, fuck.”
“Yeah?” he gasps.
“Fuck,” you repeat, mewling every time one of his thrusts sends your face forward into the pillows. “Yes, oh god.”
“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips. “That’s it, lemme hear it.”
“Joel,” you cry out, voice cracked and broken. “So good.”
“I know, baby,” he grunts. “I know.”
“You’re so—deep,” you gasp.
“I know,” he soothes.
“I missed this,” you babble, mouth moving faster than your mind. “Missed you.”
“Christ,” he spits, pulling you up until you’re leaning against his chest. His fingers are a blur against your clit, cock a fast wet shift in and out in and out.
You tilt your head back against his shoulder, mouth hanging open as you press your ass back into him.
“Missed me?” Joel says, and his cheek is warm against yours. Wet. Your face is wet. “Gonna show me how much?”
“Yes,” you moan. His free hand grips your breast, squeezing and pinching.
“Need to get my fuckin’ mouth on you,” he growls.
“No,” you beg. “Joel, don’t—fuuuck, fuck, don’t stop.”
“Wanted to,” his hips stutter against you, losing momentum for a second. “Jesus, wanted to take my fuckin’ time.” You snake a hand behind his head to grip his hair again, to press his face into your neck. His mouth latches onto your skin, spit mixing with sweat where his teeth and tongue trace your roaring pulse. Your thighs are trembling, knees weak and wobbling against the mattress as he pistons into you, unrelenting, unforgiving.
“I’m—” your eyes start to roll back. You can feel your back arch and twist against him, toes curling into the sheets. “Oh my God.”
He says your name in a panicked hiss and pulls out.
You gasp at the loss, eyes flying open in alarm. He moves your body, not wasting a second as he lowers you down onto your back presses inside again, hands gripping the underside of your knees, holding them against your chest. Practically bent in half, you tremble in his grasp, eyes blurred and wet as you sob his name.
“Lemme have it,” he goads you, voice a dull vibration against your chest. “Bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, yeah, just like that.”
And it feels like something splinters within you as heat floods your senses, vision whiting out until all you can see is the soft edges of his curls against your chest, the wet smear of his tongue over your nipple. All you can hear is the words he speaks against your skin.
I’m close, he warns, and you say yes, say please, say I want it, because you do.
“Where?” You call the shots.
And you say, Inside, say, I want it, because you do.
Because you want everything. Everything he has and whatever dark matter is left after that. And everything is a naked thought, a stark realisation, a frighteningly bare streak of madness that zips down your spine and melts in your belly, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with the enormity of it. Can feel your body squeezing and sucking and holding it holding it holding it and with black eyes, spheres of a night sky’s pitch, he stares at you. Unruly eyebrows pinched tight. Mouth slick and swollen and snarling, white teeth grit like prison bars, keeping everything contained inside himself, just out of your reach.  
“Fuck,” Joel spits, pleading, desperate. “Don’t—”
But his hips are bruising against yours and you relish in the ache. The jut of bone amidst the softness of his skin, a reminder of the coldness in him, the determination, the impatience. And you know that you can only have so much softness until there is stone. But you cannot understand don’t, you never have with him, so you grind upward. Meet him thrust for thrust, and shiver in delight as a tortured expression passes over his face. And when you come again he curses, broad palms bearing down on you, holding your frame into the mattress as he pushes you through it, prolonging that naked thought, that fearsome idea. You only hope that he cannot see how your own everything spills. How it cools and congeals around him with its palms spread open, longing to receive as much in return.
Joel comes with a shout, hips dragging backwards so his spend can spill across your stomach and the puffy lips of your sex. He grips his cock, milking himself for all he’s worth until wet ropes of his come are smeared across your thighs too. You gasp and writhe against the bed, trying in vain to keep your heavy eyelids open, not wanting to miss a second. The shine of your slick on his thighs and lower stomach is clear in the dim lighting, and you smile at the sight of it – your claim on him. Chest heaving, he follows your gaze, fingers swiping across his skin before sinking into his mouth. He groans around his fingers and you stomach lurches as he lowers his chest to the bed, mouth drifting between your splayed thighs.
You cup his jaw and hold him still.  
“I can’t,” you murmur, and your voice is cracked and broken. “S’too much.”
And he agrees, tracing the marks on the inside of your thighs with his mouth until your eyes drift closed.
Time passes slowly after that. You don’t open your eyes for a while. Too fucked out, too tired, too tender.
There’s a warm glide of something soft and wet over your stomach, your thighs, between your legs—Joel cleaning up his mess. You almost wish he wouldn’t.
“Sorry,” you mumble a few minutes later. “I’ll go in a second.” But your eyes are closed, and the sheets smell like him.
You feel the mattress dip beside you. Hear a soft click as he turns off the lamp, and darkness swells around you once more.
“S’okay,” he says, and his voice is so close, as if he were whispering against the shell of your ear, breathing the words into you. “Don’t have to go.”
And it makes sense not to go. To stay, to stay, to stay. To sink deeper into the hotel mattress, and let the sounds of his heavy exhales lull you further to sleep. He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t come any closer. But you can smell him. Can feel his warmth, a radiating sun that shines across the side of your body closest, and you sink deeper still.
You think of the katabasis - the hero’s journey spiralling down into the underworld. Of Orpheus seeking the safe return of Eurydice, his love lost too soon. Of Odysseus, guided by Circe to discover Teiresias on his quest for homecoming. Of Aeneid, venturing downward to meet his father and hear his true destiny. This descent into the afterlife, into the realm of the dead, wherein upon return our hero is irrevocably changed. But to stay, to stay, to stay. So warm it is here, you think, so lovely and warm to descend wholly into this wanting, this burning, this everything.   
“Is this a good idea?” you murmur, voice a drowsy call into the darkness. “For me to stay?”
Joel doesn’t respond.
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tags: @lovely-ateez @nana90azevedo @stevie75 @evyiione @dameron-grant-spector @brittmb115 @ashhlsstuff @casa-boiardi @bbyanarchist @hopplessilse @joeldjarin @anoverwhelmingdin @bluevxnus @kelp-dreaming @prettyinpunk85 @spacelatinos4life @iluvurfather @mrsquill @sarap-77 @sunnywithachanceofjavi @alleyy-katt @zeida @mendessi @love-the-abyss @myrealmofchaos @a-roving-woman @punkshort @gracie7209 @whichwitchwanda @fellinfromthetop @bitchwitch1981 @suzmagine @@lmariephoto37 @harriedandharassed @cumberpegg @tonysttank @ourautumn86 @my-tearsricochet @shotgun-shelby @5oh5 @psychedelic-ink @what-is-your-wish @sugadolly @elissaaa @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul
thank you for reading! x
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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month
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Shhh...Just A Little Bit More
DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader
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18+ MDNI
Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)
Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.
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“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”
“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 
“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 
You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 
“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 
When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 
See, Joel. I’m responsible. 
“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 
“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 
“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 
You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 
“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 
“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 
He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 
When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 
“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 
Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 
He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 
“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 
“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 
“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 
The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 
“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 
Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 
You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 
When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 
You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 
You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 
“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 
His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 
He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 
“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 
Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 
You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 
His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 
“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 
He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 
You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 
The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 
His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 
“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 
You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?
You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 
“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”
Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 
Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 
His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 
He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 
He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 
Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 
“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 
Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 
Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 
You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 
You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 
“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 
You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 
“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 
You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 
Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 
Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 
You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 
His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 
“Mm-hmm” 
“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 
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Taglist:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30
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mncxbe · 2 months
Text
First time meeting your parents₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: some quick headcanons of what I think the bsd men would do when they meet your parents for the first time. it got a bit silly but I tried to keep it as in character as possible. enjoy♡
ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑
𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊
he postpones meeting your parents for a looong time because he's scared they won't like him, but he eventually caves in. he knows he can't avoid the visit forever
he prefers meeting them at their place over dinner or brunch, in a more homey atmosphere
if he's anxious (trust me, he is) Dazai doesn't show it. he has no trouble charming your parents with his usual gentlemanly behaviour and jokes, although he has to physically refrain himself from making any comments and jokes about double suicide
Dazai only has good things to say about you so that helps make a good first impression. + he's such a sweet talker
"Dear Y/N is such a wonderful woman. It's clear that you raised her well– no, really, I'm serious. She's the most lovely person I've ever met"
he's quite evasive when it comes to discussing his job and past. he brushes off all questions by saying that his work at the Agency is top secret and his childhood was a✨️dark time✨️ that he doesn't want to talk about
but besides that all convos go super well. Dazai's a very smart person and he just knows how to talk to people
overall he makes a good first impression, but your parents are a bit weary of him since he's so secretive
-1 point cuz he starts lightly squeezing your thighs and touching you under the table just to see you squirm (this man is shameless)
𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂
takes your parents to the fanciest restaurant in the city– his treat of course, around half a year after the two of you start dating
he does show he's a bit nervous but it's super cute
Chuuya, just like Dazai, is willing to talk about anything except his occupation and childhood. he may twist some stories from his past and make it sound like he had a normal family growing up but he feels bad about it after
he keeps getting phone calls from his colleagues so he constantly gets up and leaves the table, which spoils the mood a bit but it's nothing major
Chuuya is the definition of a gentleman so your parents love him. he also doesn't refrain from telling them how amazing you are and how happy you make him
after hearing so much about your relationship your parents naturally want to know if you're going to take things a step further and oh he's so flustered
"Well um... we haven't thought that far yet but maybe in the future if things go well... yes I'd be happy to make her my fiancé"
if your parents do give him the blessing in advance his heart melts. and it's so obvious how grateful he is
at the end of the night he drives your parents home. yes, he rents a fancy car just for that purpose– and thanks them for agreeing to meet him
i feel like Chuuya would be very moved by the whole interaction. it's only been the first time meeting your parents and they already welcomed him in your family. he never had that growing up, didn't have the luxury of sitting around a table with his parents and just chatting and eating dinner like that and it truly makes him soft. he wants it again
he can barely sleep that night– just lays awake in bed and watches you sleep, thinking of how lucky he is to have you. he realizes that maybe your parents are right, maybe he should propose to you. after all, he does love you oh so dearly and knows that you're the only one for him
𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂
protect this man at all costs he's so anxious when he meets your family for the first time
right off the bat he doesn't make the best first impression– he's too tense and lowkey a bit mean. he's in foreign territory and he gets defensive
considering that he's been on TV before your parents know that he's part of the Port Mafia so they're also a bit awkward
neither of you know what to say or talk about at the beginning so Akutagawa excuses himself to make a phone call just to gather his thoughts. naturally, you go after him to reassure him that everything is fine but it doesn't really help
"I can't just relax, Y/N. They hate me, literally hate me. This was such a bad idea we shouldn't have done this."
"No, no Ryuu it's alright. They don't hate you they're just... weary of you. You knew it'd be like that but you just have to show them who you truly are" you encourage him, giving his hand a light squeeze "I know you can do this."
once you return to the table he composes himself and actually tries to chat with your parents. he's respectuful enough and when your parents warm up to him he fully relaxes
sweet boy rambles on about antiques and mentions Dazai at least once. other than that he doesn't talk much about his private life
overall 7/10 experience. bonus points cuz he helps your mom do the dishes and clean up the table
he needs a few days to process everything. for a while, Akutagawa truly believes that he fucked up the whole meeting and you were going to break up with him. ofc that's not the case but he's still overly anxious
needless to say the next time the four of you hang out he's much more relaxed and plans different conversation topics in advance so he can be prepared for anything
𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓
he comes over at your parents' place too. he brings flowers to your mom and some "homemade" cookies (he bought them from a bakery then put them in another box) so you can have a little snack over a cup of tea
he compliments your mom so the first impression is great
"My, my, madam, now I understand how your lovely daughter turned out to be so beautiful. She has your eyes"
man plays mind games with your parents and speaks in riddles so he comes across as a bit of a pompous ass😔 his menacing aura doesn't really help much either but besides that he's super respectful
he really impresses your parents with his knowledge but they still find him a bit shady since he doesn't share anything about his occupation and upbringing
if they really insist with questions Fyodor straight up lies– and it's scary how nonchalant he is about it
after you all drink a cup of tea and eat something he plays cards or chess with your dad so they can have a 'man to man' talk
at the end of the visit your parents like him. Fyodor manages to paint a nice picture for himself and gets their approval– but it's mostly half thruths which naturally upsets you
so once you're back to your place and you confront him he just says it's for the best they don't know the whole truth. ofc that starts a little argument
"Myshka, please understand that I cannot divulge important information about what I do"
"I know and I'm not asking you to. I just don't want you to lie to my parents. You put me in a very uncomfortable position and now I have to keep lying from now on. It's not fair."
"That may be the case... but don't worry your pretty head over it. I'll take care of everything."
"Okay but then how do I know you haven't been lying to me too?"
"No, no, my dear. I would never lie to you"
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umbrellasfuture · 2 years
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rhea ripley is such a vibe
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
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Jungkook
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 🍒
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Sometimes love doesn't make sense.
Tags/Warnings: Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook, Pastel!Reader, opposites attract, Strangers to lovers, Fluff, suggestive flirting, adult themes but no smut, consensual hand holding
Length: ~4k
There is no taglist for this fic.
Masterlist
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🍒── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
"Uhm-" you wonder, stepping inside the store to be greeted by the guy you know as Jimin.
"Hi, my friend has an appointment?" you say, and the artist stands up and walks closer. Your friend stays close to you, buzzing with the excitement of getting her first tattoo ever- too shy to say anything.
When it comes to that, you're a little ahead of her. As long as the person isn't intimidating, you're fine talking to them, asking for help or anything alike.
"Yeah, it was the dragon on her back, right?" and your friend nods. "I've got it all prepared already. Wanna come downstairs with me, I'll explain the rest of it there?" Jimin kindly says, taking her coat and leading her downstairs where you assume everyone works. "Oh, you can just wait in the back there, or stroll around town. It'll take a while." he says, and you nod, a bit unsure now after being left alone.
"Hm?" a voice chimes up, before he speaks again. "Oh, Thought I heard something." the guy comes into view, and suddenly you can't talk.
This is what you can't talk to.
Intimidating? Heavy boots and black clothes, silver chains and piercings and a fully inked sleeve including his hand present themselves to you, muscles free since he's only wearing a black sleeveless top that should be illegal for him to wear. His smile is the friendliest you've ever seen, reaching his eyes and his slightly wild hair just makes him look even better, sides buzzed down to mere millimeters left- you want to disappear from the earth and his memory forever.
Fuck. He's looking like every goth-girl's wet dream while you're dressed in a pastel colored dress and thick knee high socks to keep your feet warm in this cold weather. Great.
"You can sit here in the back with me, otherwise you'll catch a cold from all the cold air blowing in every time the door opens." he recommends, pointing to a couch in a corner that you assume is where they all spend their breaks. Awesome, he's a gentleman as well it seems, making it all even worse for you. "You want something to drink? I've got tea or coffee." he wonders, and you meekly press out a 'tea, please.', making him chuckle.
He probably thinks you're nothing more than a child, with the way you look so out of place.
You envy your friend in that department. She's got piercings, she knows cool friends, she has exciting stories to tell. Meanwhile you sit at home and knit sweaters and blankets, help out at the local animal shelter because you get to pet the cats and dogs all day, or work at the library where you aid tourists find the town's guide.
"Your friend was the tall girl, right?" he asks, coming in with two cups, one of which he sets down on front of you. "I'm Jungkook by the way." he introduces himself, smiling before he leans back in his seat. Of course he's interested in her, you think. She's exactly his type, though he looks quite a few years older than her.
Well- the least you can do is help her find a date.
"Ah, yeah, she's my friend. Best friend." you say, pulling the cup of tea closer. "Thank you, for the tea." you say politely, and he grins in front of you.
"No problem." he waves off.
"She's uh.. She works at a car-uh.. She does those paint jobs. Like, those complicated one's that look realistic and all that." you try and explain. "I.. Forgot what it's called though. But uhm.. You can ask her later maybe?" you say, and he shrugs, setting down his cup before he smirks impishly, tongue playing with his lip ring in a manner that you can only describe as illegal.
"I probably could do that-" he starts, before he tilts his head a little to the side, body leaning forward. "-but I'd rather get to know you a little more." he wonders, and you almost choke on your tea- but you're composing yourself. "Maybe I could start by asking if you've got a boyfriend?"
Well, so much for composing yourself.
Your wide eyes look at him scandalized, and he giggles at the sight of it. "I- uh, no, I mean no I don't have one, to be honest-" you laugh a bit nervously. "-guys don't.. I- most guys don't really look my way, you know. So I thought, you know, considering-" you motion up and down towards him, "-you'd be more interested in my friend." you ramble, and he just shakes his head, smiling.
"I mean, she seems nice- but, I don't know either." he shrugs. "Something about you- it's hard to explain."
You shift a little on the spot now, unsure what to do in a situation like this. Typically, you shut down guys quickly, scared of what's to come. But you also don't want to keep doing exactly that- not when you've got the chance of something right in front of you like that. For the first time, someone's actively interested in you. Someone who seems nice, that is.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, by the way." Jungkook suddenly rips out of your thoughts. He leans back again, giving you space, and it makes you feel a little deflated. Did you blow it already? Oh god you screwed it over, didn't you?
"No, you're not, don't worry." you say, looking down. "I just.. I'm not used to this. I'm usually always the wingman instead- or.. Wing-woman?" you think, and he laughs.
"Hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it." he says, still friendly. "So, I'm wondering- any tattoos? Piercings?" he wonders, and you nod- instantly making his eyes sparkle in interest. "Oh- can I ask what it is, or do you want to let me find out later?" he says, and you instantly turn red, making him laugh. "Sorry, sorry- I'll stop, promise." he waves off. "..for now."
You laugh at his antics, unable to keep a straight face by now. "You seem like you know your way around with girls." you say without thinking, before you hurriedly correct yourself. "I-I mean I don't mean that your like, a fuckboy or something or- maybe you are that's fine too! I don't judge but- oh god.." you put your head in your hand. "You know what? I'll just wait here for her, I'm so sorry." you mumble more or less.
But much to your surprise, he simply laughs, head thrown back for a second before he grins at you, front teeth slightly protruding, giving him a bunny smile.
"You're so cute, I swear." he says, shaking his head. "I- is it okay if I ask for your number?" he wonders, and you look at him for a good moment, squinting your eyes as if you test to see if he's serious.
"I.. Sure..?" you say, pulling out your phone with all the different charms attached. He grins and shakes his head amused, though clearly excited as you type in your number into his phone before calling yourself to make sure it's correct.
"So!" he grins. "Since your friend is gonna still be out of order for a good four hours downstairs," Jungkook stands up to hold out his hand. "You up for some boba for our first date?" he asks, looking down at you even though you're standing as well by now.
And you nod, walking next to him through the slight October fog outside in town, his hand warming up yours.
You don't even realize how.. easy it feels, right away. His hand holding yours is not demanding, giving you the option to let go at any point, but you don't mind holding it. It's warm, comfortable, and it also makes you wonder if that's something he enjoys. Did he date a lot already? He certainly looks like he got the choice, girls probably falling for him fairly easily.
Well.. you're already trusting him too. How ironic.
"Just tell me which one you want, I'll go order." he says later, holding out a hand in case you lose balance as you clean off the rain from your boots as to not bring it all into the small store. "I'll pay too by the way, no but's!" he grins, while you look up at him with a pleading look.
"No, I'll give you the money back for mine." you say.
"But then it's not a date!" he argues back, a whine in his voice as if to mock the way you just spoke to him. "then it's just- two people getting a drink at the same time."
"what's so bad about that?" you laugh, crossing your arms without thinking- an action he playfully copies, pushing out his chest, fabric of his jacket stretching over his biceps.
"That it's not a date!" he says, before laughing as he relaxes, talking more quietly now with a lower, more serious tone. "Alright, in all seriousness though, I'd still like to pay even if there's no date." he tells you.
"I- no, a date is fine, it can be a date.." you say. "I just don't want to.. Come off as a leech for taking your money if you end up not liking me-" you ramble, and he smiles warmly, holding your shoulders before his warm palms touch your cheeks for a second.
"You're overthinking too much." he giggles, before letting go of you. "right now, I like you very much. And even if we don't end up working out, I'm not that kind of guy to go around and talk shit about people." he shrugs.
You sigh at that, before pointing towards an item on the menu. "..can you- I don't like that much ice in mine.?" you say, and he nods, before walking towards the worker to order.
He's oddly okay with you, you've noticed.
Normally, people and especially guys get frustrated easily due to the fact that you've got trouble deciding things, or that you don't like ordering, or that you quickly feel bad because your brain thinks the worst about every single word that's said to you. But he seems nice enough, doesn't come off as annoyed or anything. Despite his way of talking and his outer appearance, Jungkook feels nice to have around.
You wonder how a guy like him can be single.
Or maybe he isnt? Maybe he's into the BDSM scene, a swinger, or in an open relationship, and he just want to offer you a threesome? He looks like he might be into that stuff, like a dominant guy that enjoys taking control over his partner in the bedroom. Does he tie people up? You've seen stuff like that before, and it's not something you'd be opposed to if he'd be the one to-
Wow, alright, exit was three miles ago.
"Everything alright?" he chuckles, snapping you out of your thoughts, amusing him as he notices the way you turn red. "Been staring at my ass? Can't blame you, honestly." he jokes, making you hit his shoulder playfully before you take your plastic cup from him. "Hey, this might sound super shady and you don't have to say yes-" he starts, stepping out the small store with you where it had started to snow again. "-but I've got my apartment a few minutes from here, and it's freezing cold, so-" he takes your hand and looks down at you. "-you wanna go to my place?"
You're nervous now, more than ever. Thoughts are entertaining, they're safe and most of all yours and not real, but the prospect of potentially going into an apartment you don't know, with a guy you don't know, is scary. What if he's actually a serial killer, or really into BDSM and you'll get involved in some shady fifty shades stuff-
"-you really don't have to say yes. We can just go back to the Tattoo shop and talk there, I don't mind." he reassures, and you still don't answer. "What's worrying you? Maybe I can help."
"I-" you start, unsure, and fingers already hurting from the cold cup as you both walk outside the small store, walking side by side. You enjoy this a bit more- without holding his hand, you feel safer having a discussion like that. "-you know, guys only take girls to their place for.. Stuff, and I'm not like that, but I also kind of want to be but at the same time it's scary-"
"Hey, no, I'm not out for blood if you mean that." he chuckles, holding out his arm to make sure you wait until a car has passed the road you're both trying to cross. "Like, I'm not gonna lie and say I've never had one-night-stands or quickies or whatever, but right now I'm interested in you, first and foremost." he explains, his rather blunt words causing an elderly lady to turn her head scandalized as she walks past. "Also, I'm into begging. I'll only fuck you if you ask nicely." he smirks down at you next to him, before laughing out loud at your wide eyes and red ears.
"I-" you struggle to form words. But you're also horribly cold. "Alright then. I mean not the fucking part, at least not right now maybe sometime in the fut- where was your apartment again?" you stutter, and he grins so hard his eyes almost close.
"You're so fucking cute, my god." he shakes his head, before taking your hand again. "It's right down this road." he simply tells you, before you both find yourself in front of an apartment building where he takes you upstairs to his door. "Ah, I didn't clean up, by the way. It's a bit chaotic." he sheepishly offers, before the door opens.
It's warm, inviting. Doesn't smell bad, and it's not as chaotic as he told you it would be, Jungkook walking inside before you walk around, inspecting the apartment.
"I've put your boots in my shower, in case you're wondering where they are." he says after emerging from his bathroom, opening a window a little to air out the apartment. "make yourself at home, don't be so stiff." he chuckles, smiling when you visibly relax.
He sits close to you on the couch, but keeps a respectful distance between the two of you. He watches as you inspect a hole in a blanket he's got on the couch, shrugging. "My friend has a dog. Small little shit tore a hole in there, but it's still good so I keep the blanket."
"It's an easy fix." you say. "If you take those two parts of the yarn and then those, you can just tie them together so it doesn't rip open any further." you explain, and he tilts his head a little.
"Oh? Do you knit?" he wonders, and you nod.
"I.. My hobbies are kind of lame. I knit, and I help at the shelter a little away from the town. Other than that, I just.. Kind of exist in my apartment." you tell him. "I work at a library near the main train station. So, I'm not really interesting." you say, while he shakes his head.
"Don't say that. I think that's all pretty cool." he reassures. "Sounds like you've made a cozy life for yourself. That's pretty impressive considering today's times." he says. "I've always been.. Unsatisfied. With almost everything." he shrugs, leaning back, socked feet resting on the edge of his couch you're both sitting on.
"How so?" you wonder, taking a sip from your drink, before putting it back onto the small table.
"I don't know." he explains vaguely. "I guess I always had way too big dreams and aspirations. And now that I'm at that age I back then wanted to be, I feel like I wasted all my time with nothing but short-lived successes and people who only wanted me for the moment."
"Kind of.. Reminds me of myself." you giggle. "I.. When I was young, even a teenager, I always said I won't have kids. But these days, I kind of think, in the future I want them. Not right now, but one day. I wanna have a family and stuff, live in a house and have a dog and a cat and a husband and all that." you giggle. "like I said, not right now- but in the future."
"Hmhm. I never wanted to marry either. Thought that's just bullshit." he says. "But now, after seeing some of my friends have that, I'm envious. I want that too. A partner for life, I mean. A boring life." he says.
You hum a reply, nodding to yourself, a bit of quietness falling over the both of you, before he moves again, sitting down more comfortably turned towards you.
"I.. Would really like to get to know you. Seriously, I mean." he starts explaining. "Like I said, I.. Don't know what it is exactly, but you're.. Fuck you make me all weird." he laughs. "I wanna stay in contact with you, if you'd like. We could watch a movie? Only Netflix, no deep-throating during commercial breaks, promise!" he jokes, before adding, "..except if you're up for it." he giggles when you hide your face for a good second, laughing.
"I don't even know how to do that!" you laugh, making him raise his eyebrows while playing with his lip ring.
"Oh I can teach you, don't worry about that." he teases.
"I'm sure you can.." you mumble more or less, sipping on your drink. But your sentence seems to make him curious, eyes gaining a challenging glimmer as he leans forward.
"No no no, let's rewind a bit there." he says. "Just so I know where I'm at. You a virgin?" he wonders, and you pull your legs closer to yourself.
"..no." you shrug. "But.. I highly doubt I'm as adventurous as you." you tell him, making Jungkook smirk a little, as if challenged.
"Are you? What do you think I'm into then?" he wonders. "I've got a feeling you've made up your mind about me more than I thought."
"I mean, I don't know?" you say. "You.. It's not that hard to have more experience than me. I only had sex like.. Twice, and it's honestly not really for me." you shrug. "it's weird to.. Ugh I don't know."
"No, you do know, you just don't want to say it out loud." he clears up for you, making you nod. "Did you ever have an orgasm?"
"Jungkook!" you bark out scandalized, making him raise his hands in playful defense.
"What? You gotta ask these days, men are shit in bed most of the time, I have to admit that!" he laughs, shamelessly talking about this as if it's nothing but the weather outside. "So? Did you?" he wonders, and you shrug. "So you didn't?"
"I- don't know!" you say, a little glad you can finally talk to someone about it, hesitation finally breaking as you get the chance to make your frustration some room. "It's different when I do it myself. Like, then I'm pretty sure I have one? But when I had sex it was different, like I was almost kind of there but also not.." you lean your head on the backrest of his couch.
"Sounds like you didn't then." he tells you. "See, there's women out there who can't cum from penetration at all. The key ingredient is being fucking attentive." he explains. "I got more than just my dick, is what I'm trying to tell." he says, wiggling his fingers in front of his face, several rings adoring some of them- and you laugh.
"You sound like you're trying to get me to have sex with you right now." you joke, but he just shrugs his shoulders, tongue poking against his cheek for a moment.
"I'd fuck you any day you'd let me." he simply answers, eyes on yours. "After all, I gotta check out those tattoos you said you have." he flirts, and you move around a little, air between you both getting thicker. At this point, you can't deny the attraction. And with the way he talks and treats you, you're sure you'd let him prove his point as well. Right now. No regrets.
He notices the way your eyes fall to his lips, getting attached at the silver piercings there for a good moment, before you find his warm eyes again. And even though he really did not intent to be so forward so fast, he still scoots closer, tests the waters, places his arms on either side of you before the tip of his nose almost touches yours.
"Been wondering for a while now.." he starts, licking his lips before he looks down to yours, face tilting a bit as he looks at you. "..what flavor that lipgloss might be." he jokes, before he can't help himself.
You've not been kissed often in your life, not even in relationships. But you know for a fact that there's no experience comparable to the way he kisses you- not only his lips, but also his hands craving you it seems, making you feel completely under his spell. He's not just kissing you with his lips. He's using his hands, his tongue, knows clearly how to create a moment.
Your phone rings.
His rings soon after.
He laughs- and so do you.
It's a little awkward for a second, before he sends a message informing his coworker that you're on your way back, his grin still evident, never vanishing it seems. "so..?" you wonder having stood up to go grab your coat.
"So?" he parrots back, standing up as well to walk closer to you.
"What flavor is it?" you shyly try and flirt, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you again, just a peck, and another, and just one last one before he parts with laughter.
"I'd say cherry-" he grins, watching you tie your boots in his hallway before he cages you in at his front door again the second you stand back up, unable to resist you now that you gave him the chance to taste you.
"But let me make sure I got it right."
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ddejavvu · 7 months
Note
tbh imagine reader trying to get like a soda or a bag of chips or something from a vending machine and it gets stuck
she doesn't even try kicking or yelling at the machine or anything, js knocking and softly talking to it like "hello? please come out 💔🙏"
she's just tapping on the glass so delicately and manifesting that her food miraculously falls down so she can get it but obviously that doesn't work 😭
hotch js standing there and staring at her half assed attempts to get her food unstuck as he makes fun of her in his head
If you glanced up at the glass above you you'd catch Hotch's reflection in it, but you're much too focused on the silver ring that's stubbornly clinging to your potato chips mere inches from the dispenser of the vending machine. You've kneeled to look at it, as if your pleading gaze will convince it to let gravity take its course, but the ring refuses to release its grip.
"Please let go," You beg it, and Hotch has heard you use the same tone when speaking to children during cases. Sensitive subjects call for sensitive approaches, but Aaron thinks the machine needs a good jostle, not a tender croon.
"Hello?" You tap your pointer finger against the glass by the knuckle, nowhere near enough force behind it to free your snack, "Please, please come out."
Aaron can't watch anymore. He wants to bite his tongue until it bleeds, caught up by how endearing your endless care is, and how frustratingly futile your attempts are. He's not sure whether he needs to dent the vending machine with his shoe or buy you a family sized bag of the chips you're trying to persuade out of the machine. He settles for a calm mixture of both, stepping up behind you and clearing his throat to announce his presence.
You look up at him forlornly, "The machine ate my dollar. And my chips got stuck."
"Here," He offers, pulling a wrinkled bill out of his own wallet. You stay crouched, brows furrowed as he types in the code for your chips. When he prompts the machine to spit another bag out, yours and his fall at the same time, and you plunge your hand into the receptacle eagerly.
"Thank you!" You gush, springing to your feet and pushing his own bag of chips towards him, "Hotch, you're a lifesaver."
"You can have them," He shakes his head, trying to keep his smile from growing too bright as he chuckles, "You're more delicate than I would have been. I think I'd have tried kicking it."
"I'm wearing flats," You stick your foot out towards him, showcasing the thin-walled shoes that would surely collapse on your toes if you jammed them against the metal machine, "Plus I don't wanna kick it. It didn't mean to take my chips. Are you sure you don't want any?" You ask him, eyes shimmering slightly with worry, "They're really good, Hotch. You'd like them."
He doesn't want to take them away from you, but he finds that he can't quite say no to your reasoning; if you care about him enough to recommend one of your favorite snacks to him, who would he be to deny your care?
"I could go for a snack," He folds, plucking the shiny package from your hand, "You shouldn't eat at your desk, though."
Really, he hadn't been fishing for any sort of invitation. But when you beam at him, already backing away towards the elevator bay, and you ask, "Wanna take a walk with me, Hotch?" He finds he can't say no.
So, chips in hand and wallet one dollar lighter, Aaron's face curves into a warm smile, and he lets you lead the way into an elevator.
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astonmartinii · 7 months
Note
An Oscar piastri request because I have severe brain rot. Oscar Piastri x black American!reader. Like they met through Logan and Oscar is just downright obsessed with his girlfriend and everything she does. No pressure I just really enjoy the way you write.
southern charm | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem american!reader
once upon a time, in the magical land of the 305, one man would take the mantle of the ultimate wingman
yourusername
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liked by logansargeant, arthurleclerc and 21,983 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: pov you're my phone when i'm watching oscar piastri tiktok edits
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user1: babe those edits are doing over time
yourusername: i don't like your tone. oscar is the sexiest man ever, end of.
user2: if your gf isn't arguing with randoms online over you, is she really your gf?
user3: she doesn't hold back when it comes to oscar, that's my GOAT
oscarpiastri: can you stop sending them to me i don't like being perceived.
yourusername: too bad because i want to perceive you
logansargeant: i'd argue she wants to perceive you too much
yourusername: only because you have no one to perceive you
logansargeant: you can't call me lonely when i got you your boyfriend
yourusername: 👋 👀 hey look it's the main contributor to the male loneliness statistics 👀 👋
oscarpiastri: y/n that's mean...
yourusername: but not wrong 😑
user4: i know they're joking but y/n does not hold back
yourusername: had to prepare him for the mean f1 bitches
landonorris: so this is the mysterious gf...
yourusername: watch your step at COTA, oscar may obey team orders but i DONT
landonorris: oscar???
oscarpiastri: i'm sorry y/n can FACTUALLY do no wrong so you're on your own here mate
yourusername: thank you baby. oscar supports women's rights and wrongs he is a hashtag ally
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oscarpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 621,983 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: getting daily outfit updates from the love of your life >>>
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user5: oh this has to be one of the healthiest celebrity relationships ever
yourusername: omg mom i'm a celebrity
user6: hi can we please get the skincare routine?
yourusername: thank you for picking the ones where i look good baby x
oscarpiastri: you look good, GREAT IN FACT, in every photo ever - every waking moment
yourusername: you're too cute osc x
logansargeant: so you get this and i just get venmo requests?
yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game
logansargeant: what game are we playing it's just venmo requests for coffee because "i'm a girl i deserve it"
oscarpiastri: idk that sounds logical to me
logansargeant: wait does she not do this to you?
oscarpiastri: no? also just know we split the money so thank you for all of my morning coffees for the last two years logan x
logansargeant: i regret ever introducing you two
user6: obsessed with this nightmare trio
alexalbon: can confirm they are a nightmare
oscarpiastri: don't call us a nightmare on my gf appreciation post
lilymunhe: yeah alex, where's mine?
alexalbon: any trio that breaks my motorhome from getting to competitive during just dance can be categorised as a nightmare - hope this helps x
yourusername: is it because we didn't invite you?
alexalbon: it was literally MY motorhome?
oscarpiastri: we beat our best score on rasputin so sorry not sorry
user7: idk how people can say oscar has no personality when he literally would throw hands for y/n?
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liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 24,871 others
yourusername: practising my smize for the COTA paddock can't allow oscar to be the only one to slay in austin
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user10: any spare paddock passes miss?
logansargeant: so i'm not allowed to slay?
yourusername: i think you need to save up all of your slaying for the track to get that point on the board
logansargeant: Y/N ????? i'm trying :(
yourusername: sorry logie bear that was a low blow from me, i'm proud of you
oscarpiastri: talented. brilliant. incredible. amazing. showstopping. spectacular. never the same. totally unique. completely not ever been done before.
yourusername: did you just quote lady gaga?
oscarpiastri: yeah, got a problem with that?
yourusername: nope. you're my favourite little monster
landonorris: i thought this was a healthy relationship - don't call my teammate a monster 😤
yourusername: that's what lady gaga fans are called lando, i've called him much worse, bring ear plugs to cota ;)
oscarpiastri: WAIT NO MY PR TEAM SAID NO MORE SEXY TIMES ON PUBLIC PLATFORMS
yourusername: boring ...
user11: so excited for the best f1 wag to be back in the paddock
yourusername: appreciate it but i can't take the crown from real icon lily
lilymunhe: omg thanks y/n i can't wait to meet you !!
alexalbon: are you always as insane as logan says
yourusername: he's probably not wrong but i prefer the term charming
oscarpiastri: we're just very passionate about things
alexalbon: like just dance?
yourusername: no comment.
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mclaren
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 1,092,347 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri
mclaren: get someone who looks at you the way oscar and y/n look at each other
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user14: i came here to watch formula 1 not to feel LONELY
user15: okay who was going to tell me oscar had such a hot girlfriend?
logansargeant: trust me literally spend more than 30 seconds with him and you'll know
oscarpiastri: okay but y/n is the prettiest person in the world AND the smartest, funniest and kindest person ever so you WILL listen and appreciate her
yourusername: god i love you so much
user16: is she an aussie too?
yourusername: nope i pulled oscar with pure american southern charm
oscarpiastri: it's true she lassoed me like a cowboy and it was love at first sight
yourusername: let me clarify we were at a wild wild west party but it was defo love at first lasso
landonorris: get someone who looks at you the way i look at the MCL60 😍
user17: lando is one of us
landonorris: i feel lonelier now, around oscar and y/n, than i did right when i was broken up with
yourusername: easy to look like that when your boyfriend is a dashing, charming and humble gentleman + generational talent
oscarpiastri: hehehehe stop you're making me blush
logansargeant: you guys are so gross
yourusername: says the man that's literally an accredited wing man because YOU got us together
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 37,988 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: that moment when you see the love of your life achieve his dreams !!!!!!!!!! NO FR oscar i am so so unbelievably proud of you, you deserve this so much. i love you, thank you for letting me be a part of your life x
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user21: they're my parents now they have no say in it
user22: consider me charmed
oscarpiastri: thank you so much my love, your support is everything to me and i can't wait to grow old with you
yourusername: my heart is yours now and forever ❤️
oscarpiastri: also i'm finding some way to frame you celebrating in my garage
yourusername: i couldn't contain my excitement, sorry to the mechanic who literally got tinnitus from me screaming lol
user23: her in the garage is real f1 fan representation
logansargeant: as much shit as i give you guys, you're so cute and i'm so glad you guys have each other
yourusername: thank you logan!! i forever owe you one for introducing us
oscarpiastri: i promise when you get into a relationship i won't once complain about it
landonorris: i was a cynic, but yeah you guys are very cute - i am endeared
yourusername: oscar tends to have that effect
oscarpiastri: ummmmm i think it's more you
landonorris: okay i said you guys are cute you don't need to prove it again
oscarpiastri
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tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: the best weekend ever and wishing i could just take you everywhere with me, until las vegas my love x
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yourusername: take me with you
yourusername: who cares about life responsibilities when i'm with you
yourusername: i'd say i'm a good luck charm but you're too talented to need one
oscarpiastri: i love you so much i miss you already
landonorris: you said goodbye five minutes ago... we've not even got to departures yet
oscarpiastri: is it illegal to miss the love of your life?
landonorris: when i'm not in a relationship? YES.
user24: the way oscar was horrified at arthur's 18 hour screentime, i bet his is just as bad now
oscarpiastri: no comment
yourusername: it's 16 hours lol
arthurleclerc: where is my justice? my apology?
oscarpiastri: we fall asleep on face time. i'm not chronically online i'm just terminally in love with my girlfriend
arthurleclerc: trust me we know
logansargeant: the way i know he's about to fly because @yourusername texts me - always the second choice :(
yourusername: oof i guess i'll nap instead
logansargeant: no i can still beat ur ass on 8 ball pool
oscarpiastri: you can't out do the doer soz bud
yourusername: i miss you come back, bullying logan was so much better together in person
note: i hope this was what you were hoping for! i love oscar so i'm always happy to write for him and i love a good comment squabble! thanks for requesting x
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luveline · 6 months
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hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 
"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 
Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 
"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 
You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 
You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 
"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 
"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 
"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 
You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"You're Peter?" you ask. 
Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 
Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 
"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."
"What do I usually look like?" 
"Not so, you know. Daunted." 
"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 
"Oh, you think so?" 
You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 
"Let's get you to the car, baby." 
"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 
"Home." 
"Together?" 
"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 
"Thank you," you say shyly. 
You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 
He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 
"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 
"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 
"You're my boyfriend?" 
"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 
"You want to get married? To me?" 
Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 
"We did?" 
He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 
"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.
"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 
"I love you," you say quietly. 
Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 
"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 
You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 
Which reminds him. 
"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.
"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 
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